Edgar Thurston

Machi.—Recorded as a synonym of Myasa Bedar.

Madaka (plough).—An exogamous sept of Togata.

Madari (pride or arrogance).—A Tamil name for Chakkiliyan.

Maddi.—Maddi or Madderu, indicating those who use the root of the Indian mulberry (maddi: Morinda citrifolia) as a dye, has been recorded as a sub-division of Besthas and Kabberas.

Maddila (drum).—Maddila or Maddili has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Kapu and Mala.

Madhave (marriage).—An exogamous sept of Badagas of the Nilgiri hills.

Madhurapuria.—A name frequently given by members of the Bhatta sub-division of Gaudo.

Madhya.—Madhya or Madhaya is a sub-division of Bottada and Sondi.

Madiga.—The Madigas are the great leather-working caste of the Telugu country, and correspond to the Chakkiliyans of the Tamil area. They were first studied by me at Hospet in the Bellary district, and at once formed a strong opposition party, in the belief that I was going to select and carry off the strong men, lest they should become kings, and upset the British Raj. So frightened were they, that they went in a body to live in the Muhammadan quarter of the town.

At the Hospet weekly market I witnessed a mendicant youth lying naked in a thorny bed of babul (Acacia arabica) stems. A loathsome spectacle was afforded by a shrivelled old woman with mouth distended by a mass of mud the size of a cricket-ball, both eyes bunged up with mud, and beating her bare breasts with her hands. The market was infested by religious mendicants, some from Benares and Ramesvaram, others from across the Hyderabad frontier, who cadged persistently for tobacco leaves, an onion or brinjal (Solanum Melongena), a few chillies, a handful of grain, or a pinch of salt, and helped to deplete the slender stock of the market-sellers. One holy man from Sholapur was profusely decorated with beads, ashes, brass snakes, and deities. Holding out for four pies worth of betel leaves, while the stall-keeper only offered one pie worth, he, after making a circle in the ground with his staff round his sandals thickly studded with blunt nails, stood thereon, and abused the vendor in language which was not nice. A Native Magistrate thereon summoned a constable, who, hastily donning his official belt, took the holy man in custody for an offence under the Act.

A conspicuous feature of Hospet are the block-wheel carts with wooden wheels, solid or made of several pieces, with no spokes. Dragged by sturdy buffaloes, they are excellent for carrying timber or other loads on rough roads or hill-tracks, where ordinary carts cannot travel. During the breezy and showery season of the south-west monsoon, kite-flying is the joy of the Hospet youths, the kites being decorated with devices of scorpions and Hindu gods, among which a representation of Hanuman, one of the genii loci, soared highest every evening.

It is fairly easy to distinguish a Madiga from a Bedar, but difficult to put the distinction in words. The Madigas have more prominent cheek-bones, a more vinous eye, and are more unkempt. The Bedar, it is said, gets drunk on arrack (alcohol obtained by distillation), whereas the Madiga contents himself with the cheaper toddy (fermented palm juice). The Bedars resort freely to the Madiga quarters (Madiga keri), situated on the outskirts of the town, and fenced in by milk-hedge (Euphorbia Tirucalli) bushes. My Brahman assistant, hunting in the Madiga quarters for subjects for measurement, unfortunately asked some Bedars if they were Madigas. To which, resenting the mistake, one of them replied “We call you the Madiga,” and the Brahman stood crushed.

The Hospet Madigas had their hair cropped short, moustache, and trimmed beard. They wore the customary threads or charm cylinders to ward off devils, and steel tweezers for removing the thorns of the babul, which is largely used as a fence for the fields of cholam and sugar. One man had suspended round his neck, as a hereditary talisman, a big silver Venkataramana bottu with the namam in the centre on an altar, and the chank and chakram stamped on it.

As bearing on the social status of the Malas and Madigas, which is a subject of dispute between the two classes, it may be noted that all the billets in cotton factories which require any skill, such as engine-drivers, valve-men, moulders, turners, etc., are held by Malas. The Madigas are generally only three-anna wage men, and do such work as turning a winch, moving bales, and other trivial jobs. At a factory, whereat I stayed, at Adoni, there were three wells, viz.:—for Malas, for Madigas, and for the rest of the workers, except Brahmans. And the well-water for the Malas was better than that for the Madigas. A Madiga chindu, or sword-dance, was prohibited in 1859 and 1874. But a petition, referring to its obscene nature, and its being the cause of frequent collision between the Malas and Madigas, was submitted to the Collector of Kurnool in 1887, by a missionary. The dance was performed at festivals, held annually or triennially, in honour of the village goddess, and during the time of threshing corn, building a new house, or the opening of a newly-dug well. The dance, accompanied by a song containing grossly indecent reflections against the Malas, was also performed, under the excitement of strong drinks, in the presence of the goddess, on the occasion of marriages. One verse ran as follows: “I shall cut with my saw the Malas of the four houses at Nandyal, and, having caused them to be cut up, shall remove their skins, and fix them to drums.”

“The right hand party,” it is stated,1 “resent the use by the left of palanquins at their marriages, and so the Malas are very jealous of the Chucklers (Madigas) carrying the bride and bridegroom through the streets, using tinkling ornaments, etc. Riots sometimes occur when a strong feeling of opposition is raised, to resent what they consider innovations.”

” The Madigas,” Mr. N. G. Chetty writes,2 “belong to the left-hand caste, and often quarrel with the Malas (right-hand). In 1871 a Madiga, having contrived to obtain a red cloth as a reward from the Police Superintendent, wore it on his head, and went in procession on horseback by the main bazaar street. This resulted in a disturbance, in which a European Inspector was severely hurt by a Mala, who had mistaken him for the Superintendent. The two factions fixed, by mutual understanding, the streets by which each was to proceed, and no quarrels have since occurred.” During the celebration of village festivals, an unmarried Madiga woman, called for the occasion Matangi (a favourite deity), abuses and spits upon the people assembled, and they do not take this as an insult, because they think that her spittle removes the pollution. The woman is, indeed, regarded as the incarnation of the goddess herself. Similarly, the Malas use very obscene language, when the god is taken in procession to the streets of the caste people.3 Concerning the Matangi I gather4 that she is an “unmarried woman of the Madiga class, chosen after a most trying ordeal, unless she happens to be descended from a previous Matangi, to represent the goddess. She must vindicate her fitness by suitable prophetic utterances, and her nomination is not confirmed till she has obtained divine approval at the temple of a certain village near Kumbam in Kurnool. When she has been finally confirmed in her honours, she enjoys the privilege of adorning her face with a profusion of turmeric and red powder, and of carrying margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves about her. She is unmarried, but without being bound by a vow of celibacy. Her business is to preside at the purificatory ceremonies that precede all festivities. When Malakshmi, or Poleramma, or Ankamma, or any other of the village deities is to have her festival, the nearest Matangi is applied to. Her necklace of cowry (CyprÆa moneta) shells is deposited in a well for three days, before she is allowed to put it on for the ceremony. She dons the necklace, and marches behind the master of the ceremonies, who carries a knife, wooden shoes and trident, which have been similarly placed for a time at the bottom of a well. The master of the ceremonies, his male and female relations, then stand in a line, and the Matangi runs round and round them, uttering what appear to be meaningless exclamations, spitting upon all of them, and touching them with her stick. Her touch and saliva are believed to purge all uncleanliness of body and soul, and are invited by men who would ordinarily scorn to approach her, and it passes one’s comprehension how she should be honoured with the task of purifying the soul and body of high class Reddis and purse-proud Komatis. It must be said that only very few Brahman families keep up this mysterious ceremony of homage to the Matangi. She is allowed to come into the house, that is to pass the outer gate. There she besmears a certain spot with cowdung, and places upon it a basket. It is at once filled with cooked food. A layer of rice powder covers the surface of the food, and on it is placed a small lamp, which is lighted. She then holds out a little earthenware pot, and asks for toddy to fill it with. But the Brahman says that she must be content with water. With the pot in her hand, and wild exultant songs in her mouth, recounting her humiliation of Brahman and Kshatriya, of saint and sovereign, she moves quickly round the assembled men and women, scattering with a free hand upon them the water from the pot. The women doff their petticoats, and make a present of them to the Matangi, and the mistress of the house gives her the cloth she is wearing. The men, however, with strange inconsistency, doff their sacred threads, and replace them by new ones after a bath. The origin of the supremacy of the Matangi is obscure, and shrouded in legends. According to one of them, the head of Renuka, the wife of the sage Bhrigu, who was beheaded by her lord’s orders, fell in a Madiga house, and grew into a Madiga woman. According to another legend, a certain king prayed to be blessed with a daughter, and in answer the gods sent him a golden parrot, which soon after perched on an ant-hill, and disappeared into it. The disappointed father got the ant-hill excavated, and was rewarded for his pains by finding his daughter rise, a maid of divine beauty, and she came to be worshipped as the Matangi. It is interesting to note that Matangas were an ancient line of kings ‘somewhere in the south,’ and the Madigas call themselves Matangi Makkalu or children of Matangi or Durga, who is their goddess.”

The system of making Basavis (see Deva-dasi), which prevails among the Madigas of the Ceded districts, is apparently not in vogue among those of the Telugu country, where, however, there are, in some places, a class of prostitutes called Matangi, Matamma, or Matha, who are held in much respect. In connection with the Basavi system, it is recorded, in the Madras Law Report, 1892, that “upon the whole, the evidence seems to be to establish that, among the Madigas, there is a widespread custom of performing in the temple at Uchangidurgam, a marriage ceremony, the result of which is that the girl is married without possibility of widowhood or divorce; that she is at liberty to have intercourse with men at pleasure; that her children are heirs to her father, and keep up his family; and that Basavis’ nieces, being made Basavis, become their heirs. The Basavis seem in some cases to become prostitutes, but the language used by the witnesses generally points only to free intercourse with men, and not necessarily to receipt of payment for use of their bodies. In fact, they acquire the right of intercourse with men, without more discredit than accrues to the men of their caste for intercourse with women who are not their wives.”

The ceremony of initiation into Matangihood is fully described by Emma Rosenbusch (Mrs. Clough).5 In the Canarese country, e.g., at Tumkur in Mysore, the ceremony of initiation is performed by a Vakkaliga priest. A portion of the front courtyard of the house is cleaned, and smeared with cow-dung. On the space thus prepared, a pattern (muggu) of a lotus is drawn with red, yellow, and white powders. The outline is first drawn with rice or ragi (Eleusine Coracana) flour deftly dropped from between the thumb and index finger. The interspaces are then filled in with turmeric and kunkuma powder. Five small pots are arranged, one in the centre, and one at each corner of the pattern. By the side of the pots are placed a ball of sacred ashes, a new cloth, a piece of turmeric, camphor, and plantain fruits. Plantain stems are set up at the corners of the pattern. A string is passed seven times round the four corner pots, and tied to the central pot. The woman who is about to become a Matangi should live on fruits and milk for five days previous to the ceremony. She is dressed in a white sari, and seats herself on the muggu close to the central pot. A bamboo basket, containing a pot bearing the device of two foot-prints (of Ellamma), an earthen or wooden receptacle, an iron lamp, and a cane, is placed on her head. The Asadi sings songs about Ellamma, and the Vakkaliga priest throws rice over the novice’s head, feet, knees, and shoulders, and ties two bottus (marriage badges), called respectively Ellamma’s and Parasurama’s bottu, on her neck. The new and old Matangis bawl out Ekkalde Jogavva. The ceremony closes with the drinking of toddy by the Matangis and Asadis. The basket (adlige) containing the various articles enumerated is the badge of a Matangi, who carries it with its contents, and a few leafy twigs of the margosa tree (Melia Azadirachta). The basket is wrapped up in a red or brown cloth, and may not be placed on the ground. At the Matangi’s house, it is hung up by means of a rope, or placed in a niche in the wall. It may be noted that the Madigas call the intoxicant toddy palu (milk).

For the following interesting note on the Matangi institution, I am indebted to an article by Mr. A. Madhaviah.6 “About ten miles to the south-west of Cumbum, in the Kurnool district, and within a mile of the village of Tudimilla, there is a narrow pass between two hillocks known as Surabeswara Kona. Besides the more common presences, we find here the following shrines:—

“We shall now proceed to enquire who this Mathangi was, and how she came to be worshipped there. Jamadhagni Maharishi, known also as Bagawan on account of his godly power and virtues, married Renuka, the daughter of Renu, and had five sons by her, the youngest of whom was the famous Parasurama, an incarnation of Vishnu. ‘Once upon a time,’ says the Bhagavatapurana, ‘Renuka having gone to the Ganga, saw the king of the Ghandarvas wearing garlands of lotus, to play with the Apsaras. Having gone to the river to fetch water, she, whose heart was somewhat attracted by Chitaratha (the king of the Gandharvas) who was playing, forgot the time of Yajna (sacrifice). Coming to feel the delay, and afraid of the curse of the Muni, she returned to the hermitage, and placed the pitcher before the Muni, and remained standing with folded palms. The Muni (Jamadhagni), coming to know of the unchasteness of his wife, got enraged, and said ‘O my sons! kill this sinner.’ Although thus directed, they did not do so. The said (Parasu) Rama, who was well aware of the power of the Muni in respect of meditations and asceticism, killed, being directed by his father, his mother along with his brothers. The son of Satyavati (Jamadhagni) was pleased, and requested Rama to pray for any favour. Rama desired the reanimation of those killed, and their forgetfulness of the fact of their having been killed. Immediately did they get up, as though after a deep sleep. Rama, who was conscious of the powers of his father in regard to asceticism, took the life of his dear ones.’

“The version locally prevalent is somewhat different. Jamadhagni Bagawan’s hermitage was near this Kona, and he was worshipping the god Surabeswara, and doing tapas (penance) there. One day, his wife Renuka Devi went, very early in the morning, to the river Gundlacama to bathe, and fetch water for her husband’s sacrificial rites. She was accompanied, as was her wont on such occasions, by a female slave of the chuckler (leather-worker) caste, as a sort of bodyguard and attendant. While she was bathing, the great warrior Karthaviriyarjuna with a thousand arms happened to fly across the sky on some business of his own, and Renuka saw his form reflected in the water, and was pleased with it in her mind. It must be mentioned that she never used to take any vessel with her to fetch water, for her chastity was such that she had power to roll water into a pot-like shape, as if it were wax, and thus bring it home. On this day, however, she failed to effect this, try what she might, and she was obliged to return home empty-handed. In the meanwhile, the sage, her husband, finding that his wife did not return as usual, learnt through his ‘wisdom sight’ what had happened, and ordered his son Parasurama to slay his sinful mother. Parasurama went towards the river accordingly, and, seeing his mother returning, aimed an arrow at her, which severed her head from her body, and also similarly severed, with its unspent force, the head of the chuckler woman who was coming immediately behind his mother. Parasurama returned to his father without even noticing this accident, and when his father, pleased with his prompt obedience, offered him any boon, he prayed for the re-animation of his mother. Jamadhagni then gave him some holy water out of his vessel, and told him to put together the dismembered parts, and sprinkle some water over them. Parasurama went off in great delight and haste, and, as it was still dark and early in the morning, he wrongly put his mother’s head on the chuckler woman’s trunk, and sprinkled water on them. Then, seeing another head and another body lying close by, he thought that they belonged to the female slave whom he had unwittingly killed, and he put them also together, and re-animated them. He was extremely vexed when he found out the mistakes he had committed, but, as there was no rectifying them without another double murder, he produced the two women before his father, and begged to be forgiven. The sage finally accepted the person with his late consort’s head as his wife, and granted to the other woman the status of an inferior deity, in response to her prayers, and owing to her having his wife’s body. This was the origin of Mathangi.

“There are some permanent inam (rent-free) lands belonging to this shrine, and there is always a Madiga ‘vestal virgin’ known as Mathangi, who is the high priestess, or rather the embodied representative of the Brahman-chuckler goddess, and who enjoys the fruits of the inams. Mathangi is prohibited from marrying, and, when a Mathangi dies, her successor is chosen in the following manner. All the chuckler girls of the village, between the ages of eight and ten, who have not attained puberty, are assembled before the shrine, and the invoking hymns are chanted amid a flourish of trumpets, drums, and other accessories. The girl who becomes possessed—on whom the goddess descends—is the chosen vessel, and she is invested with the insignia of her office, a round sieve, a bunch of margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, a snake-headed bamboo stick, a piece of cotton thread rope with some cowries (CyprÆa moneta shells) strung on it, and a small vessel of kunkuma (coloured aniline powder). A vow of lifelong celibacy is also administered to her. Curiously enough, this shrine is venerated by all castes, from the Brahman downwards. We were informed that, at the time of worship, the chuckler priestess dances about in wild frenzy, and she is given toddy to drink, which she not infrequently spits on her devotees, and even Brahmans regard this as auspicious, and not in the least polluting. We had the pleasure of witnessing a ‘possessed dance’ by the reigning Mathangi, with her drummer in attendance. She is a chuckler woman, about thirty years of age, and, but for the insignia of her office, not in any way differing from the rest of her class. Though unmarried she had several children, but this was apparently no disqualification. We were standing before the shrine of the seven mothers when the drummer invoked the goddess by chanting a Telugu hymn, keeping time on his drum. The meaning of the hymn was to this effect, as far as we could make out:—

Sathya Surabesa Kona! Gowthama’s Kamadhenu! the headless trunk in Sathya Surabesa Kona! your father Giri Razu Kamadeva Jamadhagni Mamuni beheaded the trunk; silently Jamadhagni cut off the arms; did you, the headless trunk in Kamadhenuvanam, the headless trunk of Jamadhagni, your father’s golden sword, did you ask to be born a virgin in the snake pit?

“While chanting the above, the drummer was dancing round and round the woman, and beating wildly on his drum. The woman began to tremble all over, and soon it was visible that the goddess had descended on her. Then the drummer, wilder and more frantic than ever, began to praise the goddess in these words:—

Are you wearing bells to your ankles, O mother? Are you wearing cowries, O mother? Dancing and singing, O mother! We pray to thee, O mother! Possessed and falling on the ground, I implore thee, O mother! O mother, who went to Delhi and Oruganti with a sieve in the right-hand, with a wand in the left; with bells tinkling at her ankles, the mother went to Oruganti town, the mother went away.

“During this chant, the woman vies with the drummer, and dances fiercely round and round, always facing him. Then comes the appeasing chant, which the drummer drawls out in a quivering and solemn tone, and without dancing about:—

By the feet of the thirty-three crores, by the feet of the sixty crores, by the feet of the Devas, peace !

“The woman then stands with closed eyes, panting for breath, and quite exhausted.

“On ordinary days, the Mathangi goes about the villages, collecting the offerings of her devotees, and, we take it, she is never in much want. There are also local Mathangis in other villages, but they are all said to be subordinate to the Tudimilla woman, who is the high Pontiff of the institution. We were informed that there was an old palmyra-leaf manuscript in existence, describing the institution and the ceremonies (mostly tantric and phallic) in detail.”

Among the Madigas of Tumkur in Mysore, the Matangis must apparently belong to one of two septs, Belliyoru or Malloru.

The Madiga Asadis, who are males, have to go through an initiation ceremony very similar to that of the Matangi. But a necklet of pebbles is substituted for the bottu, and the Vakkaliga priest touches the novice’s shoulders with flowers, turmeric powder, and kunkumam. The Asadis are musicians who sing songs and recite stories about Ellamma. They play on a musical instrument called chaudike, which is a combination of a drum and stringed instrument. The Matangis and Asadis, both being dedicated to Ellamma, are eminently qualified to remove pollution for many castes who are Ellamma Vokkalu or followers of Ellamma. A lotus device, or figures of Pothu Raja and Matangi, are drawn on the ground, after it has been cleansed with cow-dung. The Matangi, with her insignia, sits in the centre of the device, and the Asadis, sitting close by, sing the praises of Ellamma to the accompaniment of the chaudike. The Matangis and Asadi then drink toddy, and go about the house, wherein the former sprinkle toddy with the margosa twig. Sometimes they pour some of the toddy into their mouths, and spit it out all over the house. The pot, in which the toddy is placed, is, in some places, called pallakki (palanquin).

The Asadis’ version of the story of Ellamma is as follows. She is the goddess for all, and is present in the tongues of all except dumb people, because they have to pronounce the syllable elli (where) whenever they ask a question containing the word where. She is a mysterious being, who often exhibits herself in the form of light or flames. She is the cause of universe, and the one Sakthi in existence thereon. She is supposed to be the daughter of Giriraja Muni and Javanikadevi, and the wife of Jamadhagni Rishi. Her son is Parasurama, carrying a plough. The town where she lives has three names, Jambupuri, Isampuri, and Vijayanagara, has eighty-seven gates, and is fortified by seven walls. She is believed to have for her dress all kinds of snakes. Several groves of margosa trees are said to flourish in her vicinity. She is worshipped under many names, and has become Lakshmi, Gauramma, and Saraswati in Brahman houses, or Akkumari in Vakkaliga houses. To the Idigas she is Gatabaghya Lakshmi, to the Kurubas Ganga Mari, to the Oddes Peddamma and Chinnamma, and so on. She is said to have proceeded on a certain day to the town of Oragallu, accompanied by Jana Matangi. On the way thither, the soles of Matangi’s feet blistered, and she sat down with Ellamma beneath a margosa tree. After resting a short time Matangi asked Ellamma’s permission to go to a neighbouring Idiga (Telugu toddy-drawer), and get some toddy to drink. Ellamma objected, as the Idiga Gauda was a Lingayat, and Matangi would be compelled to wear the lingam. When Matangi persisted, Ellamma transformed herself into an ant-hill, and Matangi, in the guise of a young woman, went to the Idiga Gauda with her cane (Jogi kolu) and basket, and asked for toddy. The Gauda became angry, and, tying her to a date-palm (Phoenix sylvestris), beat her, and gave her cane and basket to his groom. Matangi was further ill-treated by the Gauda and his wives, but escaped, and went to the Gauda’s brother, who treated her kindly, and offered her toddy, of which he had sixty loads on bullocks. All this he poured into the shell of a margosa fruit which Matangi held in her hand, and yet it was not filled. Eventually the toddy extracted from a few palms was brought, and the shell became full. So pleased was Matangi with the Idiga’s treatment of her, that she blessed him, and instructed him to leave three date-palms untapped as Basavi trees in every grove. She then returned to Ellamma, and it was resolved to afflict the Gauda who had treated her badly with all kinds of diseases. Still disguised as a young woman, she went to him with sweet-smelling powders, which he purchased for a large sum of money. But, when he used them, he became afflicted with manifold diseases, including small-pox, measles, cancer, asthma, gout, rheumatism, abscesses, and bed-sores. Matangi then appeared before him as an old fortune-teller woman, whom the Idiga consulted, and doing as he was told by her, was cured. Subsequently, learning that all his misfortunes were due to his want of respect to Matangi, he became one of Ellamma’s Vokkalu.

“The Madigas,” Mr. H. A. Stuart informs us,7 “will not take food or water from Pariahs, nor the latter from the former, a prejudice which is taken advantage of in the Kalahasti Raja’s stables to prevent theft of gram by the Pariah horse-keepers, the raw gram being sprinkled with water by Madigas in the sight of the Pariahs.”

There are Telugu proverbs to the effect that “under the magili system of cultivation, even a Madiga will grow good crops,” and “not even a Madiga will sow before Malapunnama.”

Writing concerning the Madigas,8 the Rev. H. Huizinga states that “they live in hamlets at a respectable distance from the villages of the caste people, by whom they are greatly despised. Their habits are squalid in the extreme, and the odour of a Madiga hamlet is revolting. They perform all the lowest kinds of service for the caste people, especially bearing burdens and working in leather. They take charge of the ox or buffalo as soon as it dies. They remove the skin and tan it, and eat the loathsome carcase, which makes them specially despised, and renders their touch polluting. Some of the skins are used for covering the rude drums that are so largely used in Hindu festivals, and beaten in honour of the village deities. The caste men impress the Madigas into their service, not only to make the drums, but also to beat them at their feasts. It may be mentioned that nearly ten per cent. of the Madigas are nominal Christians, and, in some parts of the Nellore district, the Christians form over half of the Madiga population. This changes their habits of life and also their social position. Eating of carrion is now forbidden, as well as beating of drums at Hindu festivals, and their refusal in this particular often leads to bitter persecution at the hands of the caste people. The main duty of the Madigas is the curing and tanning of hides, and the manufacture of rude leather articles, especially sandals, trappings for bullocks, and large well-buckets used for irrigation. The process of tanning with lime and tangedu (Cassia auriculata) bark is rough and simple. [Tangedu is said9 to be cut only by the Madigas, as other classes think it beneath their dignity to do it.] As did their forefathers, so the Madigas do to-day. The quality of the skins they turn out is fair, and the state of the development of the native leather trade compares very favourably with that of other trades such as blacksmithy and carpentry. The Madiga’s sandals are strong, comfortable, and sometimes highly ornamental. His manner of working, and his tools are as simple as his life. He often gets paid in kind, a little fodder for his buffalo, so many measures of some cheap grain, perhaps a few vegetables, etc. In the northern districts, the Madigas are attached to one or more families of ryots, and are entitled to the dead animals of their houses. Like the Vettiyan in the south, the Madiga is paid in kind, and he has to supply sandals for the ryots, belts for the bulls, and all the necessaries of agriculture; and for these he has to find the requisite leather himself; but for the larger articles, such as water-buckets, the master must find the leather. Of late years there is a tendency observable among Madigas to poach on each other’s monopoly of certain houses, and among the ryots themselves to dispense with the services of family Madigas, and resort to the open market for their necessaries. In such cases, the ryots demand payment from the Madigas for the skins of their dead animals. The hides and skins, which remain after local demands have been satisfied, are sold to merchants from the Tamil districts, and there is generally a central agent, to whom the various sub-agents send their collections, and by him they are dried and salted and sent to Madras for tanning. In the Kistna district, children have little leather strings hanging from the left shoulder, like the sacred cord of the Brahman, from which is suspended a bag containing something put in it by a Madiga, to charm away all forms of disease from the infant wearer.”

In some places bones are collected by the Madigas for the Labbais (Muhammadans), by whom they are exported to Bombay.

The god of the temple at Tirupati appears annually to four persons in different directions, east, west, north and south, and informs them that he requires a shoe from each of them. They whitewash their houses, worship the god, and spread rice-flour thickly on the floor of a room, which is locked for the night. Next morning the mark of a huge foot is found on the floor, and for this a shoe has to be made to fit. When ready, it is taken in procession through the streets of the village, and conveyed to Tirupati, where it is presented at the temple. Though the makers of the shoes have worked in ignorance of each other’s work, the shoes brought from the north and south, and those from the east and west, are believed to match, and make a pair. Though the worship of these shoes is chiefly meant for the Pariahs, who are prohibited from ascending the Tirupati hill, as a matter of fact all, without distinction of caste, worship them. The shoes are placed in front of the image of the god near the foot of the hill, and are said to gradually wear out by the end of the year.

At a pseudo-hook-swinging ceremony in the Bellary district, as carried out at the present day, a Bedar is suspended by a cloth passed under his arms. The Madigas always swing him, and have to provide the hide ropes, which are used.10

In an exceedingly interesting account of the festival of the village goddess Uramma, at Kudligi in the Bellary district, Mr. F. Fawcett writes as follows. “The Madiga Basivis (dedicated prostitutes) are given alms, and join in the procession. A quantity of rice and ragi flour is poured into a basket, over which one of the village servants cuts the throat of a small black ram. The carcase is laid on the bloody flour, and the whole covered with old cloths, and placed on the head of a Madiga, who stands for some time in front of the goddess. The goddess is then carried a few yards, the Madiga walking in front, while a hole is dug close to her, and the basket of bloody flour and the ram’s carcase are buried. After some dancing by the Madiga Basivis to the music of the tom-tom, the Madigas bring five new pots, and worship them. A buffalo, devoted to the goddess after the last festival, is then driven or dragged through the village with shouting and tom-toming, walked round the temple, and beheaded by the Madiga in front of the goddess. The head is placed in front of her with the right foreleg in the mouth, and a lamp, lighted eight days previously, is placed on top. All then start in procession round the village, a Madiga, naked but for a few margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, and held by two others, leading the way. Behind him are all the other Madigas, carrying six hundred seers of cholum (Sorghum: millet), which they scatter; and, following them, all the other villagers. It is daybreak, and the Madiga who led the way, the pujari (priest), and the women who followed him, who have been fasting for more than twenty-four hours, now eat. The Madiga is fed. This Madiga is said to be in mortal terror while leading the procession, for the spirit or influence of the goddess comes over him. He swoons before the procession is completed. At noon the people collect again at Uramma’s temple, where a purchased buffalo is sacrificed. The head is placed in front of the goddess as before, and removed at once for food. Then those of the lower Sudra castes, and Madigas who are under vows, come dressed in margosa leaves, with lamps on their heads, and sacrifice buffaloes, sheep and goats to the goddess.” A further account of the festival of the village goddess Udisalamma, at Bandri in the Bellary district, is given by Mr. Fawcett. “A Madiga,” he writes, “naked but for a few leaves round his waist, leads the procession, and, following him, are Madigas with baskets. Fear of the goddess comes on the Madiga. He swoons, and is carried to the temple, and flung on the ground in front of the goddess. After a while he is revived, bathed, and given new clothing. This man is one of a family, in which this curious office is hereditary. He must be the son of a married woman, not of a Basivi, and he must not be married. He fasts from the beginning of the festival till he has done what is required of him. A young ram—the sacrifice sheep—is taken up by one of the Poturazus, as if it were a child, its hind legs at either side of his waist and its forelegs over his shoulders, and he bites its throat open and shows his bloody mouth to the people. He throws it down, and the Madigas remove it.”

In an account of a festival, during times of epidemic, at Masulipatam, Bishop Whitehead writes as follows.11 “On the last day, a male buffalo, called Devara potu (he who is devoted to the goddess), is brought before the image, and its head cut off by the head Madiga of the town. The blood is caught in a vessel, and sprinkled over some boiled rice, and then the head, with the right foreleg in the mouth, is placed before the shrine on a flat wicker basket, with the rice and blood on another basket just below it. A lighted lamp is placed on the head, and then another Madiga carries it on his own head round the village, with a new cloth dipped in the blood of the victim tied round its neck. This is regarded here and elsewhere as a very inauspicious and dangerous office, and the headman of the village has to offer considerable inducements to persuade a Madiga to undertake it. Ropes are tied round his body and arms, and held fast by men walking behind him, to prevent his being carried off by evil spirits, and limes are cut in half and thrown into the air, so that the demons may catch at them instead of at the man. It is believed that gigantic demons sit on the tops of tall trees ready to swoop down and carry him away, in order to get the rice and the buffalo’s head. The idea of carrying the head and rice round a village, so the people said, is to draw a kind of cordon on every side of it, and prevent the entrance of the evil spirits. Should any one in the town refuse to subscribe for the festival, his house is omitted from the procession, and left to the tender mercies of the devils. This procession is called Bali-haranam, and in this (Kistna) district inams (lands rent free) are held from Government by certain families of Madigas for performing it. Besides the buffalo, large numbers of sheep and goats, and fowls are sacrificed, each householder giving at least one animal. The head Madiga, who kills the animals, takes the carcase, and distributes the flesh among the members of his family. Often cases come into the Courts to decide who has the right to kill them. As the sacrifice cannot wait for the tedious processes of the law, the elders of the village settle the question at once, pending an appeal to the Court. But, in the town of Masulipatam, a Madiga is specially licensed by the Municipality for the purpose, and all disputes are avoided.”

In some localities, during epidemics of small-pox or cholera, the Madigas celebrate a festival in honour of Mariamma, for the expenses of which a general subscription is raised, to which all castes contribute. A booth is erected in a grove, or beneath a margosa or Strychnos Nux-vomica tree, within which a decorated pot (karagam) is placed on a platform. The pot is usually filled with water, and its mouth closed by a cocoanut. In front of the pot a screen is set up, and covered with a white cloth, on which rice, plantains, and cakes are placed, with a mass of flour, in which a cavity is scooped out to hold a lighted wick fed with ghi (clarified butter), or gingelly oil. A goat is sacrificed, and its head, with a flour-light on it, placed close to the pot. The food, which has been offered to the goddess, is distributed, On the last day of the festival, the pot is carried in procession through the village, and goats are sacrificed at the four cardinal points of the compass. The pot is deposited at a spot where three roads meet, and a goat, pumpkins, limes, flowers, etc., are offered to it. Everything,except the pot, is left on the spot.

The Madigas sometimes call themselves Jambavas, and claim to be descended from Jambu or Adi Jambuvadu, who is perhaps the Jambuvan of the Ramayana. Some Madigas, called Sindhuvallu, go about acting scenes from the Mahabaratha and Ramayana, or the story of Ankalamma. They also assert that they fell to their present low position as the result of a curse, and tell the following story. Kamadhenu, the sacred cow of the Puranas, was yielding plenty of milk, which the Devas alone used. Vellamanu, a Madiga boy, was anxious to taste the milk, but was advised by Adi Jambuvadu to abstain from it. He, however, secured some by stealth, and thought that the flesh would be sweeter still. Learning this, Kamadhenu died. The Devas cut its carcase into four parts, of which they gave one to Adi Jambuvadu. But they wanted the cow brought back to life, and each brought his share of it for the purpose of reconstruction. But Vellamanu had cut a bit of the flesh, boiled it, and breathed on it, so that, when the animal was recalled to life, its chin sank, as the flesh thereof had been defiled. This led to the sinking of the Madigas in the social scale. The following variant of this legend is given in the Mysore Census Report, 1891. “At a remote period, Jambava Rishi, a sage, was one day questioned by Isvara (Siva) why the former was habitually late at the Divine Court. The rishi replied that he had personally to attend to the wants of his children every day, which consequently made his attendance late: whereupon Isvara, pitying the children, gave the rishi a cow (Kamadhenu), which instantaneously supplied their every want. Once upon a time, while Jambava was absent at Isvara’s Court, another rishi, named Sankya, visited Jambava’s hermitage, where he was hospitably entertained by his son Yugamuni. While taking his meals, the cream that had been served was so savoury that the guest tried to induce Jambava’s son Yugamuni, to kill the cow and eat her flesh; and, in spite of the latter’s refusal, Sankya killed the animal, and prevailed upon the others to partake of the meat. On his return from Isvara’s Court, Jambava found the inmates of his hermitage eating the sacred cow’s beef; and took both Sankya and Yugamuni over to Isvara’s Court for judgment. Instead of entering, the two offenders remained outside, Sankya rishi standing on the right side and Yugamuni on the left of the doorway. Isvara seems to have cursed them to become Chandalas or outcasts. Hence, Sankya’s descendants are, from his having stood on the right side, designated right-hand caste or Holayas; whilst those who sprang from Yugamuni and his wife Matangi are called left-hand caste or Madigas.” The occupation of the latter is said also to be founded on the belief that, by making shoes for people, the sin their ancestors had committed by cow-killing would be expiated. This mode of vicariously atoning for deliberate sin has passed into a facetious proverb, ‘So and so has killed the cow in order to make shoes from the skin,’ indicating the utter worthlessness and insufficiency of the reparation.

The Madigas claim to be the children of Matangi. “There was,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,12 “formerly a Matanga dynasty in the Canarese country, and the Madigas are believed by some to be descendants of people who were once a ruling race. Matangi is a Sanskrit name for Kali, and it is possible that the Madigas once played an important part in the worship of the god. The employment of Chakkiliyans and Madiga women in Shakti worship gives some colour to this supposition.” According to Fleet13 “the Matangas and the Katachchuris are mentioned in connection with Mangalisa, who was the younger brother and successor of Kirttivarma I, and whose reign commenced in Saka 489 (A.D. 567–8), and terminated in Saka 532 (A.D. 610–11). Of the Matangas nothing is known, except the mention of them. But Matanga means ‘a Chandala, a man of the lowest caste, an outcast, a kirata mountaineer, a barbarian’; and the Madigas, i.e., the Mahangs of this part of the country, usually call themselves Matangimakkalu, i.e., the children of Matangi or Durga, who is their goddess. It is probable, therefore, that the Matangas of this inscription were some aboriginal family of but little power, and not of sufficient importance to have left any record of themselves.” There are allusions to Matangas in the Ramayana, and in Kadambari, a Sanskrit work, the chieftain of the Cabaras is styled Matanga. The tutelary deity of the Madigas is Mathamma or Matangi, who is said to be worshipped by the Komatis under the name of Kanyakaparameswari. The relations between the Madigas and Komatis are dealt with in the note on the latter caste. There is a legend to the effect that Matangi was defeated by Parasu Rama, and concealed herself from him under the tanning-pot in a Madiga’s house. At the feast of Pongal, the Madigas worship their tanning pots, as representing the goddess, with offerings of fowls and liquor. In addition to Matangi, the Madigas worship Kattamma, Kattappa, Dandumari, Muneswara, and other deities. Some of their children are named after these deities, while others receive Muhammadan names in fulfilment of vows made to Masthan and other Pirs.

When asked concerning their caste, the Madigas always reply “Memu pedda inti vallamu,” i.e., we are of the big house. The following legend is current in the Cuddapah district concerning a pool in the Rayachoti taluk called Akkadevatalakolam, or the pool of the holy sisters. “A thousand years ago, there lived near the pool a king, who ruled over all this part of the country. The king had as his commander-in-chief a Madiga. This Madiga made himself powerful and independent, and built himself a residence on a hill still called Madiga Vanidoorgam. At last he revolted, and defeated the king. On entering the king’s palace, he found seven beautiful virgins, the king’s daughters, to all of whom he at once made overtures of marriage. They declined the honour, and, when the Madiga wished to use force, they all jumped into this pool, and delivered their lives to the universal lord.”14

The following are some of the more important endogamous sub-divisions among the Madigas:—

• Gampa dhompti, basket offering.
• Ginna or thel dhompti, tray or cup offering.
• Bhumi dhompti, earth offering.
• Chatla dhompti, winnowing basket offering.
• Sibbi dhompti, brass vessel offering.
• Chadarapa dhompti, square space on the ground offering.

These sub-divisions are based on the way in which the members thereof offer food, etc., to their gods during marriages, e.g., a Gampa dhompti places it in a basket, a Bhumi dhompti on the floor. Each sub-division possesses many exogamous septs, of which the following are examples:—

There seems to be some connection between the Madigas, the Mutrachas, and Gollas. For, at times of marriage, the Madiga sets aside one thambulam (betel leaf and areca nut) for the Mutracha, and, in some places, extends the honour to the Golla also. At the marriage ceremonies of the Puni Gollas, an elaborate and costly form of Ganga worship is performed, in connection with which it is the Madiga musicians, called Madiga Pambala vandlu, who draw the designs in colour-powders on the floor.

The Madigas observe the panchayat or tribal council system for the adjustment of disputes, and settlement of various questions at issue among members of the community. The headman is called Pedda (big) Madiga, whose office is hereditary; and he is assisted by two elected officers called Dharmakartha and Kulambantrothu.

Madiga bridal pair.

Widow remarriage (udike) is freely permitted, and the woman and her children are received in Madiga society. But care is taken that no one but the contracting parties and widows shall witness the marriage ceremony, and no one but a widower is allowed to avail himself of the form.15 A man may get a divorce from his wife by payment to her of a few rupees. But no money is given to her, if she has been guilty of adultery. The bride’s price varies in amount, being higher if she has to cross a river. The elaborate marriage ceremonial conforms to the Telugu type, but some of the details may be recorded. On the muhurtham (wedding) day, a ceremony called pradhanam (chief thing) is performed. A sheep is sacrificed to the marriage (araveni) pots. The sacrificer dips his hands in the blood of the animal, and impresses the blood on his palms on the wall near the door leading to the room in which the pots are kept. The bridegroom’s party bring betel nuts, limes, a golden bead, a bonthu (unbleached cotton thread), rice, and turmeric paste. The maternal uncle of the bride gives five betel leaves and areca nuts to the Pedda Madiga, and, putting the bonthu round the bride’s neck, ties the golden bead thereon. The ceremony concludes with the distribution of pan-supari in the following order: ancestors, Mutrachas, Gollas, Madigas, the Pedda Madiga, and the assembled guests. The Pedda Madiga has to lift, at one try, a tray containing cocoanuts and betel with his right hand. In his hand he holds a knife, of which the blade is passed over the forefinger, beneath the middle and fourth fingers, and over the little finger. This ceremony is called thonuku thambulam, or betel and nuts likely to be spilt on the floor. The bridegroom, after a bath, proceeds to the temple, where cloths, the bashingam, bottu (marriage badge), etc., are placed in front of the god, and then taken to a jammi tree (Prosopis spicigera), which is worshipped. The bottu is usually a disc of gold, but, if the family is hard-up, or in cases of widow remarriage, a bit of turmeric or folded mango leaf serves as a substitute for it. On the third day, the wrist threads (kankanam) are removed, and dhomptis, or offerings of food to the gods, are made, with variations according to the dhompti to which the celebrants belong. An illustration may be taken from the Gampa dhompti. The contracting parties procure a quantity of rice, jaggery (crude sugar), and ghi (clarified butter), which are cooked, and moulded into an elongated mass, and placed in a new bamboo basket (gampa). In the middle of the mass, which is determined with a string, a twig, with a wick at one end, is set up, and two similar twigs are stuck into the ends of the mass. Puja (worship) is performed, and the mass is distributed among the daughters of the house and other near relations, but not among members of other dhomptis. The bride and bridegroom take a small portion from the mass, which is called dhonga muddha, or the mass that is stolen. The bottu is said16 to be “usually tied by the Madiga priest known as the Thavatiga, or drummer. This office is hereditary, but each successor to it has to be regularly ordained by a Kuruba guru at the local Madiga shrine, the chief item in the ceremony being tying round the neck of the candidate a thread bearing a representation of the goddess, and on either side of this five white beads. Henceforth the Thavatiga is on no account to engage in the caste profession of leather-work, but lives on fees collected at weddings, and by begging. He goes round to the houses of the caste with a little drum slung over his shoulder, and collects contributions.”

The Madiga marriages are said to be conducted with much brawling and noise, owing to the quantity of liquor consumed on such occasions. Among the Madigas, as among the Kammas, Gangimakkulu, and Malas, marriage is said not to be consummated until three months after its celebration. This is apparently because it is considered unlucky to have three heads of a household within a year of marriage. By the delay, the birth of the child should take place only in the second year, so that, during the first year, there will be only two heads, husband and wife.

At the first menstrual period a girl is under pollution for ten days, when she bathes. Betel leaves and nuts, and a rupee are placed in front of the Pedda Madiga, who takes a portion thereof for himself, and distributes what remains among those who have assembled. Sometimes, just before the return of the girl to the house, a sheep is killed in front of the door, and a mark made on her face with the blood.

The Madigas dispose of their dead both by burial and cremation. The body is said to be “buried naked, except for a few leaves. Children are interred face downwards. Pregnant women are burnt. The bier is usually made of the milk-hedge (Euphorbia Tirucalli) plant.”17 The grave is dug by a Mala Vettivadu. The chinnadhinam ceremony is performed on the third day. On the grave a mass of mud is shaped into the form of an idol, to which are offered rice, cocoanuts, and jaggery (crude sugar) placed on leaves, one of which is set apart for the crows. Three stones are arranged in the form of a triangle, and on them is set a pot filled with water, which trickles out of holes made in the bottom of the pot. The peddadhinam is performed, from preference on a Wednesday or Sunday, towards the close of the third week after death. The son, or other celebrant of the rites, sets three stones on the grave, and offers food thereto. Food is also offered to the crows by the relations of the deceased, and thrown into a river or tank (pond), if the crows do not eat it. They all go to a tank, and make on the bank thereof an effigy, if the dead person was a female. To married women, winnows and glass bangles are offered. The bangles of a widow, and waist-thread of a widower, are removed within an enclosure on the bank. At night stories of Ankamma and Matangi are recited by Bainedus or Pambalas, and if a Matangi is available, homage is done to her.

In some places, Madigas have their own washermen and barbers. But, in the northern districts, the caste washerman does their washing, the cloths being steeped in water, and left for the washerman to take. “The Madigas,” Mr. Francis writes,18 “may not use the wells of the better classes, though, when water is scarce, they get over this last prohibition by employing some one in the higher ranks to draw water for them from such wells, and pour it into their chatties. In other districts they have to act as their own barbers and washermen, but in Anantapur this disability is somewhat relaxed, as the barbers make no objection to let them (and other low castes such as the Malas) use their razors for a consideration, and the dhobis will wash their clothes, as long as they themselves first unroll them, and dip them into the water. This act is held to remove the pollution, which would otherwise attach to them.”

Like many castes, the Madigas have beggar classes attached to their community, who are called Dakkali and Mastiga. The Dakkalis may not enter the Madiga settlement. They sing songs in praise of the Madigas, who willingly remunerate them, as their curses are believed to be very effective. The Mastigas may enter the settlement, but not the huts. It is said to be a good omen to a Lingayat, if he sees a Madiga coming in front.

Gosangi is often used as a synonym for Madiga. Another synonym is Puravabatta, which is said to mean people older than the world by six months. At the Madras census, 1901, Chakara, Chundi, and Pavini or Vayani were returned as sub-castes, and Mayikkan was taken as the Malabar equivalent for Madiga.

Concerning the Madigas of Mysore, Mr. T. Ananda Row writes as follows.19 “The Madigas are by religion Vaishnavites, Saivites, and Sakteyas, and have five different gurus belonging to mutts at Kadave, Kodihalli, Kongarli, Nelamangala, and Konkallu. The tribe is sometimes called Jambava or Matanga. It is divided into two independent sub-divisions, the Desabhaga and the others, between whom there is no intermarriage. The former, though under the above named mutts, acknowledge Srivaishnava Brahmins as their gurus, to whom they pay homage on all ceremonial occasions. The Desabhaga division has six sub-classes, viz.: Billoru (bowmen); Malloru (mallu = fight?); Amaravatiyavaru (after a town); Munigalu (Muni or rishi); Yenamaloru (buffalo); Morabuvvadavaru (those who place food in a winnow). The Madigas are mostly field labourers, but some of them till land, either leased or their own. In urban localities, on account of the value in the rise of skins, they have attained to considerable affluence, both on account of the hides supplied by them, and their work as tanners, shoe-makers, etc. Only 355 persons returned gotras, such as Matangi, Mareecha, and Jambava-rishi.” At the Mysore census, 1891, some Madigas actually returned themselves as Matanga Brahmans, producing for the occasion a certain so-called Purana as their charter.

Madivala.—See Agasa.

Madukkaran.—See Gangeddu.

Madurai.—The name of a sub-division of Shanan, apparently meaning sweet liquor, and not the town of Madura.

Magadha Kani.—Recorded, at times of census, as a sub-division of Bhatrazu.

Maggam.—Maggam, Magga, and Maggada, meaning loom, have been recorded as exogamous septs of Kurubas, Malas, and Holeyas, some of whom are weavers.

Maghadulu.—A sub-division of Bhatrazu, named after one Maghade, who is said to have been herald at the marriage of Siva.

Magili (Pandanus fascicularis).—A gotra of Tsakalas and Panta Reddis, by whom the products of the tree may not be touched. The Panta Reddi women of this gotra will not, like those of other castes, use the flower-bracts for the purpose of adorning themselves. There is a belief, in Southern India, that the fragrant male inflorescence harbours a tiny snake, which is more deadly than the cobra, and that incautious smelling thereof may lead to death.

Magura.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a small caste of Oriya leaf-plate makers and shikaris (huntsmen). The name is said to be derived from magora, meaning one who traces foot-paths and tracks.

Mahadev.—A synonym of Daira Muhammadan.

Mahankudo.—A title of Gaudo and Gudiya. The headman of the latter caste goes by this name.

Mahant.—The Mahant is the secular head and trustee of the temple at Tirumala (Upper Tirupati) in the North Arcot district, and looks after the worldly affairs of the swami (god). “Tirupati,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,20 “unlike most other temples, has no dancing-girls attached to it, and not to be strictly continent upon the sacred hill is a deadly sin. Of late years, however, even celibate Bairagis and priests take their paramours up with them, and the pilgrims follow suit. Everything is held to betoken the approaching downfall of the temple’s greatness. The irregular life of the Mahant Balaram Das sixty years ago caused a great ferment, though similar conduct now would probably hardly attract notice. He was ejected from his office by the unanimous voice of his disciples, and one Govardhan Das, whose life was consistent with the holy office, was elected, and installed in the math (monastery) near the temple. Balaram Das, however, collected a body of disbanded peons from the palaiyams, and, arming them, made an attack upon the building. The walls were scaled, and the new Mahant with his disciples shut themselves up in an inner apartment. In an attempt at rescue, one man was killed, and three were seriously wounded. A police force was sent to co-operate with the Tirupati poligars (feudal chiefs), but could effect nothing till the insurgent peons were threatened with the loss of all their lands. This broke up the band, and Balaram Das’ followers deserted him. When the gates were broken open, it was found that he and a few staunch followers had committed suicide. But perhaps the greatest scandal which has occurred in the history of the math was that which ended in the conviction of the present Mahant’s predecessor, Bhagavan Das. He was charged with having misappropriated a number of gold coins of considerable value, which were supposed to have been buried beneath the great flagstaff. A search warrant was granted, and it was discovered that the buried vessels only contained copper coins. The Mahant was convicted of the misappropriation of the gold, and was sentenced to two years’ rigorous imprisonment, but this was reduced to one year by the High Court. On being released from jail, he made an effort to oust his successor, and acquire possession of the math by force. For this he was again sent to jail, for six months, and required to furnish security to be of good behaviour.”

It is recorded by Sir M. E. Grant Duff,21 formerly Governor of Madras, that “while the municipal address was being read to me, a huge elephant, belonging to the Zemindar of Kalahastri, a great temporal chief, charged a smaller elephant belonging to the Mahant or High Priest of Tripaty, thus disestablishing the church much more rapidly, alas! than we did in Ireland.”

Mahanti.—Mahanti is, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, defined as “a caste akin to the Koronos or Karnams (writers and accountants). The name is sometimes taken by persons excommunicated from other castes.” The word means great, or prestige. According to a note submitted to me, the Mahantis gradually became Karnams, with the title of Patnaik, but there is no intermarriage between them and the higher classes of Karnams. The Mahantis of Orissa are said to still maintain their respectability, whereas in Ganjam they have as a class degenerated, so much so that the term Mahanti is now held up to ridicule.

Mahapatro.—Said to be a title sold by the caste council to Khoduras. Also a title of Badhoyis, and other Oriya castes.

Maharana.—A title of Badhoyi.

Maheswara (Siva).—A synonym of Jangams (priests of the Lingayats). The Jangams of the Silavants, for example, are known by this name.

Mailari.—The Mailaris are a class of beggars, who are said22 to “call themselves a sub-division of the Balijas, and beg from Komatis only. Their ancestors were servants of Kannyakammavaru (or Kannika Amma, the virgin goddess of the Komatis), who burnt herself to avoid falling into the hands of Raja Vishnu Vardhana. On this account, they have the privilege of collecting certain fees from all the Komatis. The fee, in the Kurnool district, is eight annas per house. When he demands the fee, a Mailari appears in full dress (kasi), which consists of brass human heads tied to his loins, and brass cups to his head; a looking-glass on the abdomen; a bell ringing from his girdle; a bangle on his forearm ; and wooden shoes on his feet. In this dress he walks, holding an umbrella, through the streets, and demands his fee. If the fee is not paid, he again appears, in a more frightful form called Bhuthakasi. He shaves his whiskers, and, almost naked, proceeds to the burning-ground, where he makes rati, or different kinds of coloured rice, and, going to the Komatis, extorts his fee.” I am informed that the Mailaris travel about with an image of Kannyakamma, which they exhibit, while they sing in Telugu the story of her life.

The Mailaris are stated, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, to be also called Bala Jangam. Mailari (washerman) is also an exogamous sept of the Malas.

Majji.—Recorded as a title of Bagatas, Doluvas, and Kurumos, and as a sept of Nagaralus. In the Madras Census Report, 1901, it is described as a title given to the head peons of Bissoyis in the Maliahs.

Majjiga (butter-milk).—An exogamous sept of Boya.

Majjula.—A sub-division of Korono.

Majjulu.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “cultivators in Vizagapatam, and shikaris (hunters) and fishermen in Ganjam. They have two endogamous divisions, the Majjulus and the Racha Majjulus, the members of the latter of which wear the sacred thread, and will not eat with the former. In their customs they closely resemble the Kapus, of which caste they are perhaps a sub-division. For their ceremonies they employ Oriya Brahmans, and Telugu Nambis. Widow marriage is allowed. They burn their dead, and are said to perform sraddhas (memorial services). They worship all the village gods and goddesses, and eat meat. They have no titles.”

Makado (monkey).—An exogamous sept of Bottada.

Makkathayam.—The name, in the Malayalam country, for the law of inheritance from father to son. The Canarese equivalent thereof is makkalsanthanam.

Mala.—“The Malas,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,23 “are the Pariahs of the Telugu country. Dr. Oppert derives the word from a Dravidian root meaning a mountain, which is represented by the Tamil malai, Telugu mala, etc., so that Mala is the equivalent of Paraiyan, and also of Mar or Mhar and the Mal of Western and Central Bengal. I cannot say whether there is sufficient ground for the assumption that the vowel of a Dravidian root can be lengthened in this way. I know of no other derivation of Mala. [In C. P. Brown’s Telugu Dictionary it is derived from maila, dirty.] The Malas are almost equally inferior in position to the Madigas. They eat beef and drink heavily, and are debarred entrance to the temples and the use of the ordinary village wells, and have to serve as their own barbers and washermen. They are the musicians of the community, and many of them (for example in the villages near Jammalamadugu in the Cuddapah district) weave the coarse white cotton fabrics usually worn by men.”

The Malas will not take water from the same well as the Madigas, whom they despise for eating carrion, though they eat beef themselves.

Both Malas and Tamil Paraiyans belong to the right-hand section. In the Bellary district the Malas are considered to be the servants of the Banajigas (traders), for whom they do certain services, and act as caste messengers (chalavathi) on the occasion of marriages and funerals. At marriages, six Malas selected from certain families, lead the procession, carrying flags, etc., and sit in the pial (verandah) of the marriage house. At funerals, a Mala carries the brass ladle bearing the insignia of the right-hand section, which is the emblem of the authority of the Desai or headman of the section.

The Malas have their own dancing girls (Basavis), barbers, and musicians (Bainedus), Dasaris or priests, and beggars and bards called Mastigas and Pambalas (drum people), who earn their living by reciting stories of Ankamma, etc., during the funeral ceremonies of some Telugu castes, acting as musicians at marriages and festivals to the deities, begging, and telling fortunes. Other beggars are called Nityula (Nitiyadasu, immortal). In some places, Tsakalas (washerman caste) will wash for the Malas, but the clothes must be steeped in water, and left till the Tsakala comes for them. The Malas will not eat food prepared or touched by Kamsalas, Medaras, Madigas, Beri Chettis, Boyas, or Bhatrazus. The condition of the Malas has, in recent times, been ameliorated by their reception into mission schools.

In a case, which came before the High Court of Madras on appeal a few years ago, a Mala, who was a convert to Christianity, was sentenced to confinement in the stocks for using abusive language. The Judge, in summing up, stated that “the test seems to be not what is the offender’s creed, whether Muhammadan, Christian, or Hindu, but what is his caste. If he belongs to one of the lower castes, a change of creed would not of itself, in my judgment, make any difference, provided he continues to belong to the caste. If he continues to accept the rules of the caste in social and moral matters, acknowledges the authority of the headmen, takes part in caste meetings and ceremonies, and, in fact, generally continues to belong to the castes, then, in my judgment, he would be within the purview of the regulation. If, on the other hand, he adopts the moral standards of Christianity instead of those in his caste, if he accepts the authority of his pastors and teachers in place of that of the headman of the caste, if he no longer takes part in the distinctive meetings and ceremonies of the caste ... then he can no longer be said to belong to one of the lower castes of the people, and his punishment by confinement in the stocks is no longer legal.”

Between the Malas and Madigas there is no love lost, and the latter never allow the former, on the occasion of a festival, to go in palanquins or ride on horseback. Quite recently, in the Nellore district, a horse was being led at the head of a Madiga marriage procession, and the Malas followed, to see whether the bridegroom would mount it. To the disgust of the Madigas, the young man refused to get on it, from fear lest he should fall off.

The Malas will not touch leather shoes, and, if they are slippered with them, a fine is inflicted, and the money spent on drink.

Of the share which the Malas take in a village festival in the Cuddapah district, an excellent account is given by Bishop Whitehead.24 “The village officials and leading ryots,” he writes, “collect money for the festival, and buy, among other things, a barren sheep and two lambs. Peddamma and Chinnamma are represented by clay images of female form made for the occasion, and placed in a temporary shrine of cloth stretched over four poles. On the appointed evening, rice is brought, and poured out in front of the idol by the potter, and rice, ghi (clarified butter), and curds are poured on the top of it. The victims are then brought, and their heads cut off by a washerman. The heads are placed on the ground before the idol. The people then pour water on the heads, and say ‘speak’ (paluku). If the mouth opens, it is regarded as a sign that the goddess is propitious. Next, a large pot of boiled cholam (millet) is brought, and poured in a heap before the image, a little further away than the rice. Two buffaloes are then brought by the Malas and Madigas. One of the Malas, called the Asadi, chants the praises of the goddess during the ceremony. The animals are killed by a Madiga, by cutting their throats with a knife, one being offered to Peddamma, and the other to Chinnamma. Some of the cholam is then taken in baskets, and put under the throat of the buffaloes till it is soaked with blood, and then put aside. A Madiga then cuts off the heads of the buffaloes with a sword, and places them before the idol. He also cuts off one of the forelegs of each, and puts it crosswise in the mouth. Some of the cholam is then put on the two heads, and two small earthen saucers are put upon it. The abdomens are then cut open, and some of the fat taken out, melted, and put in each saucer with a lighted wick. A layer of fat is spread over the eyes and mouths of the two heads, some of the refuse of the stomach is mixed with the cholam soaked in blood, and a quantity of margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves put over the cholam. The Asadi then takes some of this mixture, and sprinkles it round the shrine, saying ‘Ko, bali,’ i.e., accept the sacrifice. Then the basket is given to another Mala, who asks permission from the village officials and ryots to sprinkle the cholam. He also asks that a lamb may be killed. The lamb is killed by a washerman, and the blood allowed to flow into the cholam in the basket. The bowels of the lamb are taken out, and tied round the wrist of the Mala who holds the basket, and puts it round his neck. He then goes and sprinkles the cholam mixed with blood, etc., in some cases round the village, and in others before each house, shouting ‘Ko, bali’ as he goes. The people go in procession with him, carrying swords and clubs to drive away evil spirits. During the procession, limes are cut in half, and thrown into the air to propitiate evil spirits. Other lambs are killed at intervals during the course of the procession. In the afternoon, the carcases of the two buffaloes offered the night before are taken away by the Malas and Madigas. One is cut open, and some of the flesh cooked near the shrine. Part of it, with some of the cholam offered before the images, is given to five Mala children, called Siddhulu, i.e., holy or sinless, who, in some cases, are covered with a cloth during the meal. The rest is eaten by Malas. The remainder of the carcases is divided among the Malas and Madigas, who take it to their own homes for a feast. The carcases of the lambs belong to the Malas and washermen. The carcase of the barren sheep is the perquisite of the village officials, though the Kurnam, being a Brahmin, gives his portion away.”

At a festival to the village goddess which is held at Dowlaishweram in the Godavari district once every three years, a buffalo is sacrificed. “Votive offerings of pots of buttermilk are presented to the goddess, who is taken outside the village, and the pots are emptied there. The head of the buffalo and a pot of its blood are carried round the village by a Mala, and a pig is sacrificed in an unusual and cruel manner. It is buried up to its neck, and cattle are driven over it until it is trampled to death. This is supposed to ensure the health of men and cattle in the ensuing year.”25

In connection with a village festival in the Godavari district, Bishop Whitehead writes as follows.26 “At Ellore, which is a town of considerable size and importance, I was told that in the annual festival of Mahalakshmi about ten thousand animals are killed in one day, rich people sending as many as twenty or thirty. The blood then flows down into the fields behind the place of sacrifice in a regular flood, and carts full of sand are brought to cover up what remains on the spot. The heads are piled up in a heap about fifteen feet high in front of the shrine, and a large earthen basin, about 1½ feet in diameter, is then filled with gingelly oil and put on the top of the heap, a thick cotton wick being placed in the basin and lighted. The animals are all worshipped with the usual namaskaram (folded hands raised to the forehead) before they are killed. This slaughter of victims goes on all day, and at midnight about twenty or twenty-five buffaloes are sacrificed, their heads being cut off by a Madiga pujari (priest), and, together with the carcases, thrown upon the large heaps of rice, which have been presented to the goddess, till the rice is soaked with blood. The rice is collected in about ten or fifteen large baskets, and is carried on a large cart drawn by buffaloes or bullocks, with the Madiga pujari seated on it. Madigas sprinkle the rice along the streets and on the walls of the houses, as the cart goes along, shouting poli, poli (food). A large body of men of different castes, Pariahs and Sudras, go with the procession, but only the Madigas and Malas (the two sections of the Pariahs) shout poli, the rest following in silence. They have only two or three torches to show them the way, and no tom-toms or music. Apparently the idea is that, if they make a noise or display a blaze of lights, they will attract the evil spirits, who will swoop down on them and do them some injury, though in other villages it is supposed that a great deal of noise and flourishing of sticks will keep the evil spirits at bay. Before the procession starts, the heads of the buffaloes are put in front of the shrine, with the right forelegs in their mouths, and the fat from the entrails smeared about half an inch thick over the whole face, and a large earthen lamp on the top of each head. The Pambalas play tom-toms, and chant a long story about Gangamma till daybreak, and about 8 A.M. they put the buffalo heads into separate baskets with the lighted lamps upon them, and these are carried in procession through the town to the sound of tom-toms. All castes follow, shouting and singing. In former times, I was told, there was a good deal of fighting and disturbance during this procession, but now the police maintain order. When the procession arrives at the municipal limits, the heads are thrown over the boundary, and left there. The people then all bathe in the canal, and return home. On the last day of the festival, which, I may remark, lasts for about three months, a small cart is made of margosa wood, and a stake fixed at each of the four corners, and a pig and a fowl are tied to each stake, while a fruit, called dubakaya, is impaled on it instead of the animal. A yellow cloth, sprinkled with the blood of the buffaloes, is tied round the sides of the cart, and some margosa leaves are tied round the cloth. A Pambala sits on the cart, to which are fastened two large ropes, each about 200 yards long. Then men of all castes, without distinction, lay hold of the ropes, and drag the cart round the town to the sound of tom-toms and music. Finally it is brought outside the municipal limits and left there, the Pariahs taking away the animals and fruits.”

The following detailed account of the Peddamma or Sunkulamma jatra (festival) in the Kurnool district, is given in the Manual. “This is a ceremony strictly local, in which the entire community of a village takes part, and which all outsiders are excluded from participating in. It is performed whenever a series of crops successively fail or cattle die in large numbers of murrain, and is peculiarly adapted, by the horrible nature of the attendant rites and the midnight hour chosen for the exhibition of its most ghastly scenes, to impress the minds of an ignorant people with a belief in its efficacy. When the celebration of the jatra is resolved on, a dark Tuesday night is selected for it, and subscriptions are collected and deposited with the Reddi (headman) or some respectable man in the village. Messengers are sent off to give intimation of the day fixed for the jatra to the Bynenivadu, Bhutabaligadu, and Poturaju, three of the principal actors in the ceremony. At the same time a buffalo is purchased, and, after having its horns painted with saffron (turmeric) and adorned with margosa leaves, is taken round the village in procession with tom-toms beating, and specially devoted to the sacrifice of the goddess Peddamma or Sunkulamma on the morning of the Tuesday on which the ceremony is to take place. The village potter and carpenter are sent for, and ordered to have ready by that evening two images of the goddess, one of clay and the other of juvi wood, and a new cloth and a quantity of rice and dholl (peas: Cajanus indicus) are given to each of them. When the images are made, they are dressed with the new cloths, and the rice and dholl are cooked and offered as naivedyam to the images. In some villages only one image, of clay, is made. Meanwhile the villagers are busy erecting a pandal (booth) in front of the village chavidi (caste meeting-house), underneath which a small temple is erected of cholam straw. The Bynenivadu takes a handful of earth, and places it inside this little temple, and the village washerman builds a small pyal (dais) with it, and decorates it with rati (streaks of different coloured powders). New pots are distributed by the potter to the villagers, who, according to their respective capabilities, have a large or small quantity of rice cooked in them, to be offered as kumbham at the proper time. After dark, when these preparations are over, the entire village community, including the twelve classes of village servants, turn out in a body, and, preceded by the Bynenivadu and Asadivandlu, proceed in procession with music playing to the house of the village potter. There the image of the goddess is duly worshipped, and a quantity of raw rice is tied round it with a cloth. A ram is sacrificed on the spot, and several limes are cut and thrown away. Borne on the shoulders of the potter, the image is then taken through the streets of the village, Bynenivadu and Asadivandlu dancing and capering all the way, and the streets being drenched with the blood of several rams sacrificed at every turning of the road, and strewed with hundreds of limes cut and thrown away. The image is then finally deposited in the temple of straw already referred to, and another sheep is sacrificed as soon as this is done. The wooden image, made by the carpenter, is also brought in with the same formalities, and placed by the side of the image of clay. A pot of toddy is similarly brought in from the house of the Idigavadu (toddy-drawer), and set before the images. Now the devarapotu, or buffalo specially devoted to the sacrifice of the goddess, is led in from the Reddi’s house in procession, together with a sheep and a large pot of cooked rice. The rice in the pot is emptied in front of the images and formed into a heap, which is called the kumbham, and to it are added the contents of many new pots, which the villagers have ready filled with cooked rice. The sheep is then sacrificed, and its blood shed on the heap. Next comes the turn of the devarapotu, the blood of which also, after it has been killed, is poured over the rice heap. This is followed by the slaughter of many more buffaloes and sheep by individuals of the community, who might have taken vows to offer sacrifices to the goddess on this occasion. While the carnage is going on, a strict watch is kept on all sides, to see that no outsider enters the village, or steals away any portion of the blood of the slaughtered animals, as it is believed that all the benefit which the villagers hope to reap from the performance of the jatra will be lost to them if an outsider should succeed in taking away a little of the blood to his village. The sacrifice being over, the head and leg of one of the slaughtered buffaloes are severed from its body, and placed before the goddess with the leg inserted into the mouth of the head. Over this head is placed a lighted lamp, which is fed with oil and buffalo’s fat. Now starts a fresh procession to go round the village streets. A portion of the kumbham or blood-stained rice heaped up before the image is gathered into two or three baskets, and carried with the procession by washermen or Madigas. The Bhutabaligadu now steps forward in a state of perfect nudity, with his body clean shaven from top to toe, and smeared all over with gore, and, taking up handfuls of rice (called poli) from the baskets, scatters them broadcast over the streets. As the procession passes on, bhutams or supernatural beings are supposed to become visible at short distances to the carriers of the rice baskets, who pretend to fall into trances, and, complaining of thirst, call for more blood to quench it. Every time this happens, a fresh sheep is sacrificed, and sometimes limes are cut and thrown in their way. The main streets being thus sprinkled over with poli or blood-stained rice, the lanes or gulleys are attended to by the washermen of the village, who give them their share of the poli. By this time generally the day dawns, and the goddess is brought back to her straw temple, where she again receives offerings of cooked rice from all classes of people in the village, Brahmins downwards. All the while, the Asadivandlu keep singing and dancing before the goddess. As the day advances, a pig is half buried at the entrance of the village, and all the village cattle are driven over it. The cattle are sprinkled over with poli as they pass over the pig. The Poturaju then bathes and purifies himself, and goes to the temple of Lingamayya or Siva with tom-toms and music, and sacrifices a sheep there. The jatra ends with another grand procession, in which the images of the goddess, borne on the heads of the village potter and carpenter, are carried to the outskirts of the village, where they are left. As the villagers return home, they pull to pieces the straw temple constructed in front of the chavidi, and each man takes home a straw, which he preserves as a sacred relic. From the day the ceremony is commenced in the village till its close, no man would go to a neighbouring village, or, if he does on pressing business, he would return to sleep in his own village. It is believed that the performance of this jatra will ensure prosperity and health to the villagers and their cattle.

“The origin of this Sunkulamma jatra is based on the following legend, which is sung by the Byneni and Asadivandlu when they dance before the images. Sunkulamma was the only daughter of a learned Brahmin pandit, who occasionally took pupils, and instructed them in the Hindu shastras gratuitously. One day, a handsome youth of sixteen years came to the pandit, and, announcing himself as the son of a Brahmin of Benares come in quest of knowledge, requested that he might be enlisted as a pupil of the pandit. The pandit, not doubting the statement of the youth that he was a Brahmin, took him as a pupil, and lodged him in his own house. The lad soon displayed marks of intelligence, and, by close application to his studies, made such rapid progress that he became the principal favourite of his master, who was so much pleased with him that, at the close of his studies, he married him to his daughter Sunkulamma. The unknown youth stayed with his father-in-law till he became father of some children, when he requested permission to return to his native place with his wife and children, which was granted, and he accordingly started on his homeward journey. On the way he met a party of Mala people, who, recognising him at once as a man of their own caste and a relation, accosted him, and began to talk to him familiarly. Finding it impossible to conceal the truth from his wife any longer, the husband of Sunkulamma confessed to her that he was a Mala by caste, and, being moved by a strong desire to learn the Hindu shastras, which he was forbidden to read, he disguised himself as a Brahmin youth, and introduced himself to her father and compassed his object; and, as what had been done in respect to her could not be undone, the best thing she could do was to stay with him with her children. Sunkulamma, however, was not to be so persuaded. Indignant at the treachery practiced on her and her parent, she spurned both her husband and children, and returning to her village, sent for her parent, whose house she would not pollute by going in, and asked him what he would do with a pot denied by the touch of a dog. The father replied that he would commit it to the flames to purify it. Taking the hint, she caused a funeral pile to be erected, and committed suicide by throwing herself into the flames. But, before doing so, she cursed the treacherous Mala who bad polluted her that he might become a buffalo, and his children turn into sheep, and vowed she would revive as an evil spirit, and have him and his children sacrificed to her, and get his leg put into his mouth, and a light placed on his head fed with his own fat.”

The following additional information in connection with the jatra may be recorded. In some places, on a Tuesday fifteen days before the festival, some Malas go in procession through the main streets of the village without any noise or music. This is called mugi chatu (dumb announcement). On the following Tuesday, the Malas go through the streets, beating tom-toms, and proclaiming the forthcoming ceremony. This is called chatu (announcement). In some villages, metal idols are used. The image is usually in the custody of a Tsakala (washerman). On the jatra day, he brings it fully decorated, and sets it up on the Gangamma mitta (Gangamma’s dais). In some places, this is a permanent structure, and in others put up for the jatra at a fixed spot. Asadis, Pambalas, and Bainedus, and Madiga Kommula vandlu (horn-blowers) dance and sing until the goddess is lifted up from the dais, when a number of burning torches are collected together, and some resinous material is thrown into the flames. At the same time, a cock is killed, and waved in front of the goddess by the Tsakala. A mark is made with the blood on the forehead of the idol, which is removed to a hut constructed by Malas with twigs of margosa (Melia Azadirachta), Eugenia Jambolana and Vitex Negundo. In some villages, when the goddess is brought in procession to the outskirts of the village, a stick is thrown down in front of her. The Asadis then sing songs, firstly of a most obscene character, and afterwards in praise of the goddess.

The following account of “the only Mala ascetic in Bharatavarsha” (India) is given by Mr. M. N. Vincent.27 The ascetic was living on a hill in Bezwada, at the foot of which lay the hamlets of the Malas. The man, Govindoo by name, “was a groom in the employ of a Muhammadan Inspector of Police, and he was commissioned on one occasion to take a horse to a certain town. He was executing his commission, when, on the way, and not far from his destination, the animal shied and fell into the Krishna river, and was swept along the current, and poor Govindoo could not help it. But, knowing the choleric temper of his employer, and in order to avoid a scolding, he roamed at large, and eventually fell in with a company of Sadhus, one of whose disciples he became, and practiced austerities, though not for the full term, and settled eventually on the hill where we saw him occupying the old cave dwelling of a former Sadhu. It appears that there was something earthly in the man, Sadhu though he was, as was evidenced from his relations with a woman votary or disciple, and it was probably because of this phase of his character that some people regarded him as a cheat and a rogue. But this unfavourable impression was soon removed, and, since the time he slept on a bed of sharp thorns, as it were in vindication of his character, faulty though it had been, he has been honoured. A good trait in the man should be mentioned, namely, that he wrote to his parents to give his wife in marriage to some one else, as he had renounced his worldly ties.”

At Vanavolu, in the Hindupur taluk of the Anantapur district, there is a temple to Rangaswami, at which the pujari (priest) is a Mala. People of the upper castes frequent it, but do their own puja, the Mala standing aside for the time.28

It is noted, in the Madras Census Report, 1891, that the chief object of worship by the Balijas is Gauri, their caste deity. “It is said that the Malas are the hereditary custodians of the idol of Gauri and her jewels, which the Balijas get from them whenever they want to worship her. The following story is told to account for this. The Kapus and the Balijas, molested by the Muhammadan invaders on the north of the river Pennar, migrated to the south when the Pennar was in full flood. Being unable to cross the river, they invoked their deity to make a passage for them, for which it demanded the sacrifice of a first-born child. While they stood at a loss what to do, the Malas, who followed them, boldly offered one of their children to the goddess. Immediately the river divided before them, and the Kapus and the Balijas crossed it, and were saved from the tyranny of the Muhammadans. Ever since that time, the Malas have been respected by the Kapus and Balijas, and the latter even deposited the images of Gauri, the bull and Ganesa, which they worshipped in the house of a Mala. I am credibly informed that the practice of leaving these images in the custody of Malas is even now observed in some parts of Cuddapah district and elsewhere.”

An expert Mala medicine-man has been known to prescribe for a Brahman tahsildar (revenue officer), though the consultation was conducted at a most respectful distance on the part of the honoured physician.

Mala weavers are known as Netpanivandlu (Nethapani, weaving work). According to the Census Report, 1891, the sub-divisions of the Malas, which are numerically strongest, are Arava, Kanta, Murikinadu, Pakanati, and Reddi Bhumi. To these may be added Sarindla, Savu, Saindla, and Daindla. Concerning some of these divisions, the following legend is current. A Mala married eighteen wives, one from each kulam or tribal division. The god Poleramma, objecting to the sacrifice of sheep and goats, wanted him to offer up a woman and child in substitution for the animals, and the Mala broke the news to his wives, one of whom eloped with a Reddi, and gave origin to the Reddi Bhumis (bhumi, earth). Another ran away, and gave rise to the Pakanatis (eastern country). A third hid herself, and escaped by hiding. Hence her descendants are called Daindla vandlu, concerning whom there is a proverb “Dagipoyina vandlu Daindla vandlu” or “Those who escaped by hiding are Daindlas.” One of the wives, who fled to the forest, found her way out by clearing the jungle, and her descendants are called Sarindla (straight). The wife who consented to be sacrificed with her child was restored to life by Poleramma, and gave rise to the Savu (death) or Saindla (belonging to a death house) section. The Daindlas are said to be Tamil Paraiyans, who settled down in the Telugu country, and adopted the manners and customs of the Malas. Some call themselves Arava (Tamil) Malas. They are employed as servants in European houses, horse-keepers, etc.

In connection with the origin of the Malas, the Rev. S. Nicholson writes as follows. “Originally the Malas belonged to the kudi paita section of the community, i.e., their women wore the cloth over the right shoulder, but now there are both right and left paita sections, and this must be taken as the principal division. The right-hand (right paita) section is again divided into (a) Reddi Bhumalavaru, (b) Pokunativaru. The left-hand (left paita) section are Murikinativaru. The following legend professes to account for the existence of the three divisions. When Virabahuvu went to the rescue of Harischandra, he promised Kali that, if she granted him success, he would sacrifice to her his wives, of whom he had three. Accordingly, after his conquest of Vishvamithrudu, he returned, and called his wives that he might take them to the temple in order to fulfil his vow. The wives got some inkling of what was in store for them, and one of them took refuge in the house of a Reddi Bhumala, another ran away to the eastern country (Pokunati), while the third, though recently confined, and still in her dirty (muriki) cloth, determined to abide by the wish of her lord. She was, therefore, sacrificed to Kali, but the goddess, seeing her devotion, restored her to life, and promised to remain for ever her helper. The reason given for the change in the method of wearing the cloth is that, after the incident described above took place, the women of the Murikinati section, in order to express their disapproval of the two unfaithful wives, began to wear their cloths on the opposite, viz., the left, shoulder. In marriages, however, whatever the paita of the bride, she must wear the cloth over the right shoulder.

“The Reddi Bhumalu and Pokunativaru say that the reason they wear the cloth over the right shoulder is that they are descendants of the gods. According to a legend, the goddess Parvati, whilst on a journey with her lord Parameshvarudu, discarded one of her unclean (maila) cloths, from which was born a little boy. This boy was engaged as a cattle-herd in the house of Parameshvarudu. Parvati received strict injunctions from her lord that she should on no account allow the little Mala to taste cream. One day, however, the boy discovered some cream which had been scraped from the inside of the pot sticking to a wall. He tasted it, and found it good. Indeed, so good was it that he came to the conclusion that the udder from which it came must be even better still. So one day, in order to test his theory, he killed the cow. Then came Parameshvarudu in great anger, and asked him what he had done, and, to his credit be it said, the boy told the truth. Then Parameshvarudu cursed the lad and all his descendants, and said that from henceforth cattle should be the meat of the Malas—the unclean.”

The Malas have, in their various sub-divisions, many exogamous septs, of which the following are examples:—

(a) Reddi Bhumi.

(b) Pokunati.

(c) Sarindla.

(d) Daindla.

Concerning the home of the Malas, Mr. Nicholson writes that “the houses (with mud or stone walls, roofed with thatch or palmyra palm leaves) are almost invariably placed quite apart from the village proper. Gradually, as the caste system and fear of defilement become less, so gradually the distance of their houses from the village is becoming less. In the Ceded Districts, where from early times every village was surrounded by a wall and moat, the aloofness of the houses is very apparent. Gradually, however, the walls are decaying, and the moats are being filled, and the physical separation of the outcaste classes is becoming less apparent.”

Mr. Nicholson writes further that “according to their own traditions, as told still by the old people and the religious mendicants, in former times the Malas were a tribe of free lances, who, ‘like the tiger, slept during the day, and worked at night.’ They were evidently the paid mercenaries of the Poligars (feudal chiefs), and carried out raids and committed robberies for the lord under whose protection they were. That this tradition has some foundation may be gathered from the fact that many of the house-names of the Malas refer to weapons of war, e.g., spear, drum, etc. If reports are true, the old instinct is not quite dead, and even to-day a cattle-stealing expedition comes not amiss to some. The Malas belong to the subjugated race, and have been made into the servants of the community. Very probably, in former days, their services had to be rendered for nothing, but later certain inam (rent-free) lands were granted, the produce of which was counted as remuneration for service rendered. Originally, these lands were held quite free of taxation, but, since the advent of the British Raj, the village servants have all been paid a certain sum per month, and, whilst still allowed the enjoyment of their inam lands, they have now been assessed, and half the actual tax has to be paid to Government. The services rendered by the Malas are temple service, jatra or festival service, and village service. The village service consists of sweeping, scavenging, carrying burdens, and grave-digging, the last having been their perquisite for long ages. According to them, the right was granted to them by King Harischandra himself. The burial-grounds are supposed to belong to the Malas, and the site of a grave must be paid for, the price varying according to the position and wealth of the deceased, but I hear that, in our part of the country, the price does not often exceed two pence. Though the Brahmans do not bury, yet they must pay a fee of one rupee for the privilege of burning, besides the fee for carrying the body to the ghat. There is very little respect shown by the Malas at the burning-ghat, and the fuel is thrown on with jokes and laughter. The Malas dig graves for all castes which bury, except Muhammadans, Oddes, and Madigas. Not only on the day of burial, but afterwards on the two occasions of the ceremonies for the dead, the grave-diggers must be given food and drink. The Malas are also used as death messengers to relatives by all the Sudra castes. When on this work, the messenger must not on any account go to the houses of his relatives though they live in the village to which he has been sent.

“The chief occupations of the Malas are weaving, and working as farm labourers for Sudras; a few cultivate their own land. Though formerly their inam lands were extensive, they have been, in the majority of cases, mortgaged away. The Malas of the western part of the Telugu country are of a superior type to those of the east, and they have largely retained their lands, and, in some cases, are well-to-do cultivators. In the east, weaving is the staple industry, and it is still carried on with the most primitive instruments. In one corner of a room stands the loom, with a hole in the mud floor to receive the treadles, and a little window in the wall, level with the floor, lights the web. The loom itself is slung from the rafters, and the whole can be folded up and put away in a corner. As a rule, weaving lasts for eight months of the year, the remainder of the year being occupied in reaping and stacking crops, etc. Each weaver has his own customers, and very often one family of Malas will have weaved for one family of Sudras for generations. Before starting to weave, the weaver worships his loom, and rubs his shuttle on his nose, which is supposed to make it smooth. Those who cannot weave subsist by day labour. As a rule, they stick to one master, and are engaged in cultivation all the year round. Many, having borrowed money from some Sudra, are bound to work for him for a mere pittance, and that in grain, not cash.”

In a note on a visit to Jammalamadugu in the Cuddapah district, Bishop Whitehead writes as follows.29 “Lately Mr. Macnair has made an effort to improve the methods of weaving, and he showed us some looms that he had set up in his compound to teach the people the use of a cheap kind of fly-shuttle to take the place of the hand-shuttle which is universally used by the people. The difficulties he has met with are characteristic of many attempts to improve on the customs and methods of India. At present the thread used for the hand-shuttle is spun by the Mala women from the ordinary cotton produced in the district. The Mala weavers do not provide their own cotton for the clothes they weave, but the Kapus give them the cotton from their own fields, pay the women a few annas for spinning it, and then pay the men a regular wage for weaving it into cloth. But the cotton spun in the district is not strong enough for the fly-shuttle, which can only be profitably worked with mill-made thread. The result is that, if the fly-shuttle were generally adopted, it would leave no market for the native cotton, throw the women out of work, upset the whole system on which the weavers work, and, in fact, produce widespread misery and confusion!”

The following detailed account of the ceremonies in connection with marriage, many of which are copied from the higher Telugu castes, is given by Mr. Nicholson. “Chinna Tambulam (little betel) is the name given to the earliest arrangements for a future wedding. The parents of the boy about to be married enquire of a Brahman to which quarter they should go in search of a bride. He, after receiving his pay, consults the boy’s horoscope, and then tells them that in a certain quarter there is loss, in another quarter there is death, but that in another quarter there is gain or good. If in the quarter which the Brahman has intimated as good there are relations, so much the better; the bride will be sought amongst them. If not, the parents of the youth, along with an elder of the caste, set out in search of a bride amongst new people. On reaching the village, they do not make their object known, but let it appear that they are on ordinary business. Having discovered a house in which there is a marriageable girl, after the ordinary salutations, they, in a round-about way, make enquiries as to whether the warasa or marriage line is right or not. If it is all right, and if at that particular time the girl’s people are in a prosperous condition, the object of the search is made known. If, on the other hand, the girl’s people are in distress or grief, the young man’s party go away without making their intention known. Everything being satisfactory, betel nut and leaves are offered, and, if the girl’s people are willing to contract, they accept it; if not, and they refuse, the search has to be resumed. We will take it for granted that the betel is accepted. The girl’s parents then say ‘If it is God’s will, so let it be; return in eight or nine days, and we will give you our answer.’ If, within that time, there should be death or trouble of any sort in either of the houses, all arrangements are abandoned. If, when going to pay the second visit, on the journey any of the party should drop on the way either staff or bundle of food, it is regarded as a bad omen, and further progress is stopped for that day. After reaching the house of the prospective bride on the second occasion, the party wait outside. Should the parents of the girl bring out water for them to drink and to wash their faces, it is a sign that matters may be proceeded with. Betel is again distributed. In the evening, the four parents and the elders talk matters over, and, if all is so far satisfactory, they promise to come to the house of the future bridegroom on a certain date. The boy’s parents, after again distributing betel, this time to every house of the caste, take their departure. When the party of the bride arrive at the boy’s village, they are treated to toddy and a good feed, after which they give their final promise. Then, having made arrangements for the Pedda Tambulam (big betel), they take their departure. This ends the first part of the negotiations. Chinna Tambulam is not binding. The second part of the negociations, which is called Pedda Tambulam, takes place at the home of the future bride. Before departing for the ceremony, the party of the bridegroom, which must be an odd number but not seven, and some of the elders of the village, take part in a feast. The members of the party put on their religious marks, daub their necks and faces with sandal paste and akshinthulu (coloured rice), and are sent off with the good wishes of the villagers. After the party has gone some few miles, it is customary for them to fortify themselves with toddy, and to distribute betel. The father of the groom takes with him as a present for the bride a bodice, fried dal (pea: Cajanus indicus), cocoanut, rice, jaggery, turmeric, dates, ghi, etc. On arrival at the house, the party wait outside, until water is brought for their faces and feet. After the stains of travel have been washed off, the presents are given, and the whole assembly proceeds to the toddy shop. On their return, the Chalavadhi (caste servant) tells them to which households betel must be presented, after which the real business commences. The party of the bridegroom, the people of the bride, the elders of the caste, and one person from each house in the caste quarter, are present. A blanket is spread on the floor, and grains of rice are arranged on it according to a certain pattern. This is the bridal throne. After bathing, the girl is arrayed in an old cloth, and seated on a weaver’s beam placed upon the blanket, with her face towards the east. Before seating herself, however, she must worship towards the setting sun. In her open hands betel is placed, along with the dowry (usually about sixteen rupees) brought by her future father-in-law. As the bride sits thus upon the throne, the respective parents question one another, the bride’s parents as to the groom, what work he does, what jewels he will give, etc. Whatever other jewels are given or not, the groom is supposed to give a necklace of silver and beads, and a gold nose jewel. As these things are being talked over, some one winds 101 strands of thread, without twisting it, into a circle about the size of a necklace, and then ties on it a peculiar knot. After smearing with turmeric, it is given into the hands of the girl’s maternal uncle, who, while holding his hands full of betel, asks first the girl’s parents, and then the whole community if there is any objection to the match. If all agree, he must then worship the bridal throne, and, without letting any of the betel in his hands fall, place the necklace round the bride’s neck. Should any of the betel fall, it is looked upon as a very bad omen, and the man is fined. After this part of the performance is over, and after teasing the bride, the uncle raises her to her feet, and, taking from her hands the dowry, etc., sends her off. After distributing betel to every one in the village, even unborn babies being counted, the ceremony ends, and, after the usual feast has been partaken of, the people all depart to their various homes.

“The wedding, contrary to the previous ceremonies, takes place at the home of the bridegroom. A Brahman is asked to tell a day on which the omens are favourable, for which telling he receives a small fee. A few days before the date foretold, the house is cleaned, the floor cow-dunged, and the walls are whitewashed. In order that the evil eye may be warded off, two marks are made, one on each side of the door, with oil and charcoal mixed. Then the clothes of the bride and bridegroom are made ready. These, as a rule, are yellow and white, but on no account must there be any indigo in them, as that would be a sign of death. The grain and betel required for the feast, a toe-ring for the bridegroom, and a tali (marriage badge) for the bride, are then purchased. The toe-ring is worn on the second toe of the right foot, and the tali, which is usually about the size of a sixpence, is worn round the woman’s neck. The goldsmith is paid for these not only in coin, but also in grain and betel, after receiving which he blesses the jewels he has made, and presents them to the people. Meanwhile, messengers have been sent, with the usual presents, to the bride’s people and friends, to inform them that the auspicious day has been fixed, and bidding them to the ceremony. In all probability, before the preparations mentioned above are complete, all the money the bridegroom’s people have saved will be expended. But there is seldom any difficulty in obtaining a loan. It is considered an act of great merit to advance money for a wedding, and people of other and richer castes are quite ready to lend the amount required. In former days, it was customary to give these loans free of interest, but it is not so now. The next item is the preparation of the pandal or bower. This is generally erected a day or two before the actual marriage in front of the house. It consists of four posts, one at each corner, and the roof is thatched with the straw of large millet. All round are hung garlands of mango leaves, and cocoanut leaves are tied to the four posts. On the left side of the house door is planted a branch of a tree (Nerium odorum), to which is attached the kankanam made in the following way. A woollen thread and a cotton thread are twisted together, and to them are tied a copper finger-ring, a piece of turmeric root, and a betel leaf. The tree mentioned is watered every day, until the whole of the marriage ceremonies are completed. As a rule, the whole of the work in connection with the erection of the pandal is carried out by the elders, who receive in payment food and toddy. At this time, also, the fire-places for the cooking of the extra amount of food are prepared. These are simply trenches dug in the mud floor of the house, usually three in number. Before they are dug, a cocoanut is broken, and offered over the spot. A journey is now made to the potter’s for the pots required in the cooking of the marriage feast. This in itself is quite a ceremony. A canopy is formed of an ordinary wearing cloth supported at its four corners by four men, whilst a boy with a long stick pushes it into a tent shape in the middle. Beneath the canopy is one of the women of the bridegroom’s family, who carries on a tray two sacred lamps, an eight-anna piece, some saffron (turmeric), akshinthulu, betel, frankincense, cocoanut, etc. On arriving at the potter’s house, the required pots are placed in a row outside, and a cocoanut, which has been held in the smoke of the incense, is broken into two equal parts, the two halves being placed on the ground about a yard apart. To these all the people do puja (worship), and then take up the pots, and go home. The eight-anna piece is given to the potter, and the betel to the Chalavadhi. On the way to the potter’s, and on the return thence, the procession is accompanied with music, and the women sing songs. Meanwhile, the groom, and those who have remained at home, have been worshipping the goddess Sunkalamma. The method of making this goddess, and its worship, are as follows. Rice and green gram are cooked together, and with this cooked food a cone is made minus the point. A little hollow is made on the top, and this is filled with ghi (clarified butter), onions, and dal. Four wicks are put into it, so forming a lamp. A nose jewel is stuck somewhere on the outside of the lump, two garlands are placed round it, and the whole is decorated with religious marks. This goddess is always placed in the north-east corner of the house, called the god’s corner, which has been previously cleaned, and an image of Hanuman, or some other deity, is drawn with rice-powder on the floor. Upon this drawing the image of Sunkalamma is placed. Before her are put several little balls of rice, with which ghi has been mixed. The worship consists in making offerings of frankincense and camphor, and a cocoanut, which is broken in half, the halves being put in front of the goddess. A ram or a he-goat is now brought, nim (Melia Azadirachta) leaves are tied round the horns, religious marks are made on the forehead, water is placed in its mouth, and it is then sacrificed. After the sacrifice has been made, those assembled prostrate themselves before the image for some time in silence, after which they go outside for a minute or two, and then, returning, divide the goddess, and eat it. The groom now has his head shaved, and the priest cuts his finger and toe nails, eyelashes, etc. The cuttings are placed, along with a quarter of a rupee which he has kept in his mouth during the process, in an old winnowing tray, with a little lamp made of rice, betel and grain. The priest, facing west and with the bridegroom in front of him, makes three passes with the tray from the head to the foot. This is supposed to take away the evil eye. The priest then takes the tray away, all the people getting out of the way lest the blight should come on them. He throws away what is useless, but keeps the rest, especially the quarter of a rupee. After this little ceremony, the future husband takes a bath, but still keeps on his old clothes. He is given a knife, with which to keep away devils, and is garlanded with the garlands which were round the goddess. His toe-ring is put on, and the next ceremony, the propitiation of the dead, is proceeded with. The sacrificed animal is dismembered, and the bones, flesh, and intestines are put into separate pots, and cooked. Rice also is prepared, and placed in a heap, to which the usual offerings are made. Then rice, and some of the flesh from each pot, is placed upon two leaf plates. These are left before the heap of rice, with two lamps burning. The people all salute the rice, and proceed to eat it. The rice on the two plates is reserved for members of the family. By this time, the bride has most likely arrived in the village, but, up to this stage, will have remained in a separate house. She does not come to the feast mentioned above, but has a portion of food sent to her by the bridegroom’s people. After the feast, bride and bridegroom are each anointed in their separate houses with nalugu (uncooked rice and turmeric). When the anointing of the bride takes place, the groom sends to her a cloth, a bodice, cocoanut, pepper and garlic. The bride leaves her parents’ house, dressed in old clothes. Her people provide only a pair of sandals, and two small toe-rings. She also carries a fair quantity of rice in the front fold of her cloth. Again a procession is formed as before for the cooking-pots, and another visit is paid to the potter’s house, but, on this occasion, in place of eight annas grain is taken. The potter presents them with two wide-mouthed pots, and four small-mouthed pots, two of which are decorated in four colours. As before, these are placed in a row outside, and again the party, after worshipping them, takes them to the bridegroom’s house. These pots are supposed to represent Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, and, as they are being carried to the house, no pregnant woman or mother with small children should meet them, or they will have trouble. On arriving at the house, and before entering, a cock is sacrificed, and a cocoanut offered. [In some places, a goat is killed in front of the room in which the marriage pots are kept, and marks are made with the palms of the hands covered with the blood on the side-walls of the entrance.] Water is sprinkled on the door step, and the pots are taken inside. During the whole of the above performance, the pots are held in the hands, and must not be put down. After entering the house, grain is spread on the floor in the north-east corner, and upon this are placed the pots, one upon the other, in two or four rows. The topmost pot is covered with a lid, and on the lid is placed a lighted lamp. From the beams exactly above the lamps are suspended, to which are fastened small bundles containing dates, cocoanut, jaggery, sugar, and saffron. Round each pot is tied a kankanam (wrist-thread). These pots are worshipped every day as long as the wedding ceremonies last, which is usually three days. Not only so, but the lamps are kept continually burning, and there is betel arranged in a brass pot in the form of a lotus ever before them. Beneath the pandal is now arranged a throne exactly similar to the one which was used on the occasion of the Pedda Tambulam. Until now the bride has kept to her separate house, but she now dresses in her new clothes. Putting on the sandals she brought from her own home, she proceeds to the house of the bridegroom. There she waits in the pandal for her future husband, who comes out dressed in his wedding garments, wearing his sandals, and carrying a blanket, gochi,30 shoulder-cloth, and knife. Both bride and bridegroom now have fastened on to their foreheads a kind of philactery or nuptial crown called bhasingalu. They are also garlanded with flowers, in addition to which the bridegroom has tied on to his wrists the kankanam. In order that the two most intimately concerned persons may not see one another (and up to this point they have not done so), a screen is erected, the bride standing on one side, and the bridegroom on the other. As a rule, they each of them keep their heads bent during the whole of the proceedings, and look as miserable as possible. Indeed, it would be a breach of etiquette for either of them to appear as though they were enjoying the ceremony. Except for the screen, the two are now face to face, the groom looking towards the east, and the bride towards the west. Upon the bridal throne there is now placed for the bride to stand upon a basket filled with grain, and for the groom the beam of a loom. The screen is now taken away, and the priest, a Dasari, asks whether the elders, the Mala people generally, and the village as a whole, are in favour of the marriage. This he asks three times. Probably, in former times, it was possible to stop a marriage at this point, but now it is never done, and the marriage is practically binding after Pedda Tambulam has been gone through. Indeed, in hard times, if the bride is of marriageable age, the couple will live together as man and wife, putting off the final ceremony until times are better. The groom now salutes the priest, the bride places her foot on the weaving beam, and the groom places his foot upon that of the woman as a token of his present and continued lordship. After this, the bride also is invested with the kankanam. After the groom has worshipped the four quarters of heaven, the priest, who holds in his hands a brass vessel of milk, hands the golden marriage token to the groom, who ties it round the bride’s neck. This is the first time during the ceremony that either of them has looked on the other. Before the groom ties the knot, he must ask permission from the priest and people three times. The priest now dips a twig of the jivi tree (Ficus Tsiela) into the milk, and hands it to the husband, who, crossing his hands over his wife’s head, allows some of the drops to fall upon her. The wife then does the same to the husband. After this, the rice which the bride brought with her in her lap is used in a similar blessing. The priest, holding in his hand a gold jewel, now takes the hands of the two in his, and repeats several passages (charms). Whoever wishes may now shower the pair with rice, and, after that is done, the priest publicly announces them to be man and wife. But the ceremonies are not yet ended. The newly-married pair, and all the assembled party, now proceed to the village shrine to worship the god. Before doing so, the cloths of the newly-wed pair are tied together by the priest. This knot is called the Brahma knot, and is a sign that God had ordained the two to be man and wife even in a previous birth. After the god has been worshipped, and an offering of betel made to the four quarters, the party return to the house accompanied by weird music and much tom-tom. The women, as a rule, sing wedding songs, and the husband and wife are shaded by a canopy. Arrived at the threshold of the house, the fear of the evil eye is made the reason for another ceremony. Before either crosses the threshold, passes are made from their head to their feet with black and red water. On the threshold is placed a brass bowl full of grain, upon which is a gold nose jewel. The man and woman must each touch this with the right foot, after which they may enter the house without fear. After entering the house, the evil eye is again removed, this time with a cocoanut, which is afterwards thrown away. Those who have unlucky twists of hair must at this time, besides the above ceremony, sacrifice a goat. After entering the house, the whole party worship Lakshmi. Long ago, the tradition runs, this goddess was very gracious to the Malas, and, in consequence, they were wealthy and prosperous. One day, however, Lakshmi went up to one of the chief men, who at that time was very busy at work upon a web of cloth, and began to make love to him. At any other time this would have been very acceptable, but just then, being very busy, he asked the goddess to go away. She, however, took no notice, and only bothered him the more. Whereupon, losing his temper, he hit her over the head with the heavy sizing brush which he was using. This hurt the feelings of Lakshmi to such an extent that she left the Malas, withdrew her favour, and transferred it to the Komatis. Since then, the Malas have been poor. The husband next dips his hands into a plate of milk three times, each time placing his wet hand on the wall. After him, the bride does the same. The two then, sitting down, eat rice and milk off one plate. This is the first and only time that husband and wife eat together. The bashingams are now taken off, and the wife is relieved from the burden of rice she has thus far carried in her lap. The next ceremony is called the Bhumalu, and is a feast for the husband, his wife, and blood relations only. Not more than ten, and not less than six must partake, and these must all be husbands or wives, i.e., the party must consist of either three or five couples. The feast consists of the most expensive food the people can afford, and is eaten on two consecutive days. A blanket is spread on the floor, and on this raw rice is placed in a cloth, with betel leaves arranged in the form of a lotus at the four corners. Here and there are placed red rice, sandal, and turmeric, and a new lamp is lit. Three children are brought in, and are made to stand before the rice. The parties who are to partake now come in couples, and one of the children ties upon their wrists the kankanam, another daubs them with sandal paste, and another with red rice. The food is placed on two plates, one for the women and one for the males. All the women sit round the one, and the men round the other. Whilst eating, they must not drop a single grain. Should they do so, it is not only unlucky, but is also the cause of serious quarrels, and the fault is punishable with a heavy fine. After the feast is over, the heap of rice is worshipped, and the children are sent off with a little present each. The pair are again anointed with nalugu. This is done twice every day for three days, but no widow is allowed to do it. Before anointing, the people about to do it must present a cocoanut and jaggery. When the cocoanut and jaggery are given, they must be in strips, and put into the bride’s mouth partly projecting. The groom must take hold of the projecting part with his teeth, and eat it. The same performance is gone through with betel leaf. A doll is now made with cloths, having arms, legs, etc. The newly-married couple are made to play with it, being much teased the while by the onlookers, who sing lullabys. The two now have their hands and feet anointed with turmeric, and are bathed. This is done on three consecutive days. On the third day is the nagavalli. The bride and her husband are escorted under a canopy to some ant heap outside the village. The man digs a basketful of earth with his knife, which was given to him, and which he has never relinquished, and the wife carries it to the house. There the earth is made into four heaps, one near each post. A hollow is left at the top of each heap, which is filled with water. During the time they have been fetching the earth, the people who remained at home have been worshipping aireni pots representing Lakshmi, but they now come outside to the pandal. The pair are escorted all round the village, accompanied with music. They must not walk, but must be either carried or driven. After their return to the pandal, they are seated on the nagavalli simhasanam. Four small pots are placed in the form of a square, and round these is wound a fence of thread, which must not be broken in the process. On the pots are placed bread and meal. The bridal pair again put on their bridal crowns, and the man, taking his knife, digs a few furrows in the ground, which his wife fills with grain. The husband then covers up the grain with his knife, after which his wife sprinkles water over the whole, and then gives her husband some gruel. The bread and meal, which were placed on the pots, are eaten by the relatives of the husband publicly in the pandal. After this ceremony is over, the pair are again anointed, during which process there must be music and singing. The next day, the whole of the party set off for the bride’s house, where the marala pendli, or second marriage, is performed. Before setting out, the husband and wife bow down at the feet of the elders, and receive their blessing. The husband must provide an abundance of toddy for all. They stay in the house of the bride’s people for three days, and then another feast is made. On the fourth day, all, except the relations of the bride, return to their villages, but, before their departure, the bride again pays homage to the departing elders, who bless her, and give her a small present of money. On their return, they are met outside the village, and are escorted to the husband’s house with music. The married pair usually remain in the house of the bride’s mother for a month, and during that time they never change their wedding garments, or take off the garlands of flowers. The parents of the bridegroom present their daughter-in-law with new clothes, but these must not have any indigo in them. If the bride is past puberty, at the end of the month the father and mother-in-law will return with the married couple to the husband’s village. If the girl has not reached puberty, she will only spend a short time in her husband’s house, and will afterwards be continually going backwards and forwards between the two houses. At the time of puberty, the matter is made known to all parties concerned. The Chalavadhi must be the bearer of the news, and he is treated to as much food and drink as he can take, and is also given presents. When the messenger goes, he must carry with him dal, jaggery, sugar-candy, etc. The neighbours come out to see how much he has brought, and, if the amount is small, they make a fuss. During the ceremonies which ensue, the girl is made to sit down, and is blessed by the women sprinkling her with nalugu, and is also given sweetmeats to eat. The time is made merry by song and music. After bathing, the girl is made to take food out of a dish along with three married women. She is then made to touch a thorn tree three times, and also plucks the leaves. Upon returning to the house, she is made to touch the cooking instruments and pots. At this time, if anyone has lent her beads or ornaments, they are taken, and, after being threaded on new strings, are returned to the lenders. If the day on which a girl reaches puberty is an unlucky day, it is considered a bad sign for the husband. On the second occasion the husband comes for his wife, and there is much rejoicing. After being detained for four or five days, they go to their permanent home, the house of the husband’s father, and there is at that time much weeping. The mother tells the girl to be obedient to her husband and parents-in-law, and says that it will be better for her to throw herself into a well and die than to return home disgraced.

“There are slight differences in the ceremonies described above according to the district and sect of the people. In the eastern Telugu country, during the marriage ceremonies, there is a sort of bridesmaid, who accompanies the bride on the day of the wedding. In the western country, largely under the influence of the Canarese, the bridesmaid is scarcely distinguishable from the real bride, but she is not, as at home, an unmarried girl, but must be a mature woman following the functions of a married life. There is another slight difference between the two sections concerning the Bhumala ceremony. The Vaishnavites, after the arranged people have partaken of the feast, distribute the remainder of the food; the Saivites, on the other hand, if any food is left, bury it somewhere inside the house.

“Malas may be married many times, and indeed it is not considered respectable to remain a widower. A widower is unable to make arrangements for the marriage of others, to take part in any of the ceremonies connected therewith, except in the capacity of a spectator. It is not the correct thing for a man to have two wives at one time unless the first one is barren, or unless there is other good cause. A woman must on no account marry again. She need not, according to Telugu morals, be ashamed of living, after she is widowed, with another man as his concubine, but, at the very mention of marriage, she covers her face with shame. If such people become Christians, it is a most difficult thing to overcome their prejudice, and persuade them to become legally man and wife. Almost the only way to do so is by refusing to marry their children. In the Canarese country, there is a kind of half marriage (chira kattinchinaru, they have tied her cloth), which may be attained by widows. It is not reckoned as a proper marriage, nor is the woman considered a concubine. The ceremony for this is not performed at the great length of an ordinary marriage, but it must receive the sanction of the elders. In spite of their sanction, the man must pay a fine imposed by the caste guru. The woman is permitted to wear the tali or marriage token, but not bangles or other jewels usually worn by a married woman. The children are part inheritors, and are not entirely without rights, as the children of concubines are. A man’s second wife must wear two talis—that of the first wife as well as her own.”

The following variants of the Pedda Tambulam ceremony, which is performed during the marriage rites, may be noted. As soon as all are assembled in the front yard of the bride’s house, a blanket is spread on the floor, and covered with a cloth. About ten seers of cholam (millet: Sorghum) are heaped up, and a brass vessel (kalasam) is placed thereon. By its side, a lamp is kept burning. A Dasari, or a Mala priest, stands on one side of it, and a married woman on the other. The names of the gods are mentioned, one after the other, and the woman throws two betel leaves and a nut on the kalasam for each name uttered. The bride is then brought from within the house, and the leaves and nuts are tied up in a cloth. This, with the kalasam, is put in the bride’s cloth, and she is led inside. In some places, the ceremony is more elaborate. For the betrothal ceremony some leading men of the village, and the headmen of the bride and bridegroom’s villages, are required to be present. The Chalavati (caste servant) hands over a bag containing betel leaves, areca nuts, pieces of turmeric, and Rs. 4–6, to the headman of the bride’s village. All these articles are displayed on a new bamboo sieve, or on the lid of a bamboo box. The two headmen discuss the proposed match, and exchange betel and nut thrice. After this, the bride-elect (chinnapapa) is brought from the house, and seated on a plank or on a cloth roller (dhone). Three handfuls of betel leaves and areca nuts are placed in her lap. Her maternal uncle then puts on her neck a string of unwoven unbleached cotton thread dyed with turmeric. The bride’s headman asks the assembly if he may proceed with the thonuku ceremony. With their permission, he takes from a sieve betel leaves, nuts, and a cocoanut with his right hand, using only the thumb, first, and ring fingers. While doing this, he is expected to stand on one leg, and to take up the various things, without letting even a single leaf or nut fall. In some places, the headman has the privilege of doing this seated near the sieve. In other places, he is said to hold a knife in his hand, with a blade passed below the middle finger, and over the first ring finger.

In connection with birth ceremonies, Mr. Nicholson writes as follows. “During labour, a sickle and some nim (Melia Azadirachta) leaves are always kept upon the cot, to ward off evil spirits, which will not approach iron. Difficulty during labour is considered to be the effect of kharma, and the method employed for easing it is simple. Some mother, who has had an ‘easy time,’ is called in, and presents the labouring woman with betel, etc. Should this not be effective, a line of persons is drawn up from the well to the house, and water is passed from hand to hand until it reaches the ‘easy time’ woman, who gives the water to the sufferer. This last resort is only sought in extreme cases, but, when it is appealed to, even the caste people will join in the line and help. After the placenta has come away, the child is placed on a winnowing basket, which has been previously filled with grain, and covered with a cloth. The umbilical cord is cut, and the child is washed, and branded with a hot needle in all places, over twenty in all, which are considered vital. When the umbilical cord is cut, some coin is placed over the navel for luck. This, with the grain in the basket, is the midwife’s perquisite. Should the child present with the cord round its neck, a cocoanut is immediately offered. If the child survives, a cock is offered to the gods on the day the mother takes her first bath. The placenta is put in a pot, in which are nim leaves, and the whole is buried in some convenient place, generally in the backyard. The reason for this is said to be that, unless the afterbirth was buried, dogs or other animals might carry it off, and ever after the child would be of a wandering disposition. The first bath of the mother takes place on the third, fifth, seventh, or ninth day after delivery. Every house in the particular quarter sends a potful of hot water. All the pots are placed near the spot where the afterbirth was buried. The mother then comes from the house supported by two women, carrying in her hand the sickle and nim leaves. After worshipping the four mud gods which have been placed on the spot, she takes her seat on the cot on which she was confined, and, after having her body covered with turmeric, and her head anointed with a mixture of rice, chunam (lime) and turmeric, she is bathed by the women in attendance. After the bath, both the mother and child are garlanded with a root strung on strings, and worn round the neck and wrists. One of these is eaten every day by the mother. The mother rises and enters the house, but, before doing so, she worships the four quarters on the threshold. The women who assisted in the bathing operation go to their homes, and bathe their own children, afterwards returning to take part in a feast provided by the parents of the newly-born child. On this day also a name is given to the child. If all previous children have died, the child is rolled in leaf plates and rice, after which the nose and ears are pierced. The rice is given to the dogs, and the child is named Pulligadu (used up leaf plates) or Pullamma according to sex. Should the parents consider that they have a sufficiently large family, they name the child Salayya or Salakka (enough). There are several superstitions about teething. If the teeth come quickly, people say that the afterbirth has not been buried deeply enough. Should the top teeth come first, it is supposed to imply danger to the maternal uncle, who generally gives his daughter in marriage to his nephew. He is called, and brings with him a cocoanut, the inner shell of which he crushes on the child’s head. This must be done without looking on the child. In order that girls may not grow hair on their faces, their lips and chins are rubbed with the afterbirth. The dried navel is highly prized as a remedy for sterility.

In connection with death ceremonies, Mr. Nicholson writes as follows. “There is a difference in the ceremonies performed by the Vishnuvite and Saivite sects. The former allow their people to die in the house; the latter, fearing pollution, remove the person outside the door, as soon as it is recognised that death is at hand. The following description relates chiefly to the Vishnuvites or Namdaris, but, wherever possible, the difference of ceremony between the two sects is noticed. As soon as it is recognized that a person is at the point of death, the wife and children, or near relations, gather round the rough string cot, and ask what the dying person’s last wishes are. However bad a life may have been led, the dying words are considered imperatively binding. If at all possible, the son or brother of the dying person will give a little food and a drink of water; and, if there is no one to perform this office—the rite which entitles the dying to heaven—great is the grief. ‘May you have no one to give you water to drink’ is a most bitter curse. As soon as life has departed, those who are standing by will close the eyes and mouth, and stop the nostrils and ears. The two great toes are tied together, whilst the wife and sons burn incense at the head of the corpse. A lamp is lit, and left in the house. Before this, the near relations have heard that things were serious, and have come to render assistance. They now bring water for the bathing, and some go to the bazar for sweetmeats, etc., required in the subsequent ceremonies. Some of the elders go to call the Dasari, or priest, and, by the time he arrives, rice will have been prepared, and the blood of a fowl sprinkled over the place where the death occurred. It should be mentioned that the head of the dying is always placed to the south. Yamudu, the god of death and lord of Hades, is god of the south. Consequently, if the dead arose, if facing south he would go to the evil place. By lying on the back with the head to the south, they rise facing north, and so escape an evil fate. When the food is prepared, the corpse is removed outside, bathed, and wrapped in a new cloth. Betel nut and leaf are ground and put into the mouth, whilst the priest puts the namam (the mark of Vishnu) upon both the forehead of the corpse and of the bearers. After the bathing of the corpse, and before it is wrapped in the new cloth, a small square piece is torn out of the cloth, and presented to the Nambi of the temple. The corpse being prepared, the priest and the wife and relations of the deceased, along with the bearers, eat a small portion of the food which has been got ready. Immediately upon rising after having eaten, the corpse is lifted, and placed upon a rough bier, wrapped in a cloth, and the party proceed to the burying ground. The priest goes first singing a funeral hymn, and at the end of each verse all the people cry Govinda (one of the names of Vishnu). Following the priest comes the Chalavadhi, carrying his belt and insignia of office. At every other step the bell is rung by coming in contact with his leg. After the Chalavadhi comes the corpse carried by men who are, according to Telugu relationship, brothers (actual brothers, or sons of father’s brother or mother’s sister). In the case of a married woman, the bearers must be either husband or brothers. Following the corpse comes the wife or son, bearing water and fire. Shortly before reaching the burial-ground, a halt is made. The son sprinkles a little water on the ground, and the bier is placed upon the spot with the fire at the head. The face is then uncovered, and all look upon the dead features for the last time. The reason given for the halt is that upon one occasion, according to tradition, the bearers became exhausted, and, when they rested the bier upon the ground, the corpse arose alive. In carrying a dead body, it is always carried feet first. The grave, which has been prepared beforehand, and which is usually not more than three feet deep, is reached, and the body is placed therein with the head towards the south. In the case of a male, after being placed in the grave, the waist-cord and toe-rings are removed, and left in the grave. In the case of a woman, the glass bracelets, bell-metal toe-rings, and bead necklace are left, but no jewels of value or the marriage token are left. After this is over, the body is covered with leaves of the tangedu tree (Cassia auriculata). As a rule, Vishnuvites, before covering the body with leaves, take off the cloth in which it is wrapped, leaving it naked. This is supposed to be emblematic of the nakedness with which we enter upon life. The corpse is buried face upwards, and it is considered a means of future happiness to the deceased if those assembled throw earth into the grave. The nearer the relationship of those doing so, the greater is the happiness conferred. Hence it is always desired that a son should be present. After the grave has been filled up half way with earth, three stones are placed, one at the head, one in the middle, and one at the feet. Only the Vishnuvites do this. Upon the middle of these stones stands the priest, while the relatives of the deceased wash his feet, and put upon them the namam or sign of Vishnu. Whilst standing thus, they bargain and haggle as to what fee is to be paid. After this is over, the grave is completely filled in, and great care is taken that the corpse is so covered that it may not be disturbed by jackals and other animals, at any rate before the fifth day. If it should be disturbed, heaven will not be reached. So the Telugu curse ‘May the jackals eat your tongue’ is a curse of damnation. The Saivites bury their dead in the cloth, face downwards. After the grave has been filled in, the fire carried by the son is placed at the head of the grave, and incense is burnt. Then the water carried from the house is sprinkled over the grave, and the procession departs homeward. On their way, they stop at some wayside well, and wash away their defilement, afterwards sitting on the edge of the well to chew betel and eat sweetmeats. They may also pay a visit to the temple, where they again sit and gossip, but perform no worship. If the deceased be a woman leaving a husband, the talk will be about arrangements for the marriage which will shortly take place. Immediately the body is taken from the house for burial, the lamp which was first lighted is extinguished, and another lighted in its place. Then those who stay at home (the women do not usually attend a funeral) clean sweep the house, plastering it with cow-dung. After this, they wait outside the house for the return of the burial party. The blood relations who have attended the burial come, and, without entering the house, glance at the newly-lighted lamp, afterwards going to their own homes, where, before entering, and without touching any of the pots, they must bathe in hot water. Toddy flows freely at the close of a funeral. Indeed, this is one of the occasions when excess is most common. From now until the fifth day, when the Divasalu ceremony takes place, fire and a lamp are lighted at the grave each evening at sunset.

“The Divasalu ceremony, which is observed by all castes which follow the Ramanuja matham or Satani cult, is generally performed at the dead of night, and with as much ceremony as possible. All the Namdaris in the village are invited, each being separately called by the Kondigadu, who is a kind of messenger belonging to the Dasari or Mala priest. In former days, many of the Sudras used to attend this ceremony, but of late, either through Malas more openly eating the flesh of cows, or for some other reason, they rarely attend, and, if they do so, it is with great secrecy. The Nambi, however, who is a Satani, should attend. Indeed, it is he who is the performer of the ceremony. The flesh required for the sacrifice is found by slaughtering a sheep or a goat. Before killing it, holy water is poured into its mouth, and incense is burnt before it. When the animal has been dismembered, the head, guts, and blood are cooked in one pot, the bones in another, the flesh in a third, whilst in a fourth pot bread is baked. Toddy and arrack (native spirit) are also placed in readiness. After these preparations, the Nambi draws upon the floor, on the spot where the death occurred, the ashtakshari (eight-cornered) mantram, repeating the while magical words. The mantram is usually drawn with treble lines, one black, one yellow, and one white. At each corner are placed a cocoanut, betel, dates, and a lump of molasses, whilst a rupee is placed in the middle at one side. The words repeated are in Tamil, and, roughly translated, are as follows: ‘This is the mantram of Manar Nambi. This is the holy water of the sacred feet of ... Nambi. This is the secret of holiness of the 108 sacred places. These are the means for obtaining heaven. They are for the saving of the sinner. This drawing is the seal of the saints. Countless sins have I committed; yet by thought on the saints is sin cleansed.’ After the completion of the drawing, the officiating priest puts the holy mark of Vishnu on the foreheads of those who bring the vessels of cooked food. Then, to the east side of the drawing, he makes two little piles of millet. He then asks (in Tamil) for the pot containing the head, and for the toddy. The two bearers bring the pots, keeping exactly together, and, as they reach the Nambi, each must exchange places with the other. The priest then inscribes on one pot the wheel (chakra), and on the other the conch shell, these being the sacred symbols of Vishnu. Before doing so, he wets the leaves of the tulasi plant (Ocimum sanctum) in a rice plate, and places them in a brass vessel containing holy water by his side. Then, with the conch shell which he carries, he pours some of the holy water into each pot, afterwards placing the pots upon the heaps of millet. Next, a leaf plate is placed in the middle of the drawing. Upon it is placed some of each variety of food cooked, along with milk and ghi. Over all, another plate is placed as a cover. During this time, so that no one may see the ceremony, a sheet or blanket is held up before the Nambi as a screen. He then takes two little sticks with cotton-wool in a notch at the end, and puts them to steep in castor-oil. Whilst they are steeping, he takes a cocoanut, and, after breaking it, pours the milk into the vessel containing holy water, and places the two pieces by the side of the heaps of grain upon which are the two pots. Then, taking up the two sticks, and having made passes with them over the whole drawing, he lights them and holds them aloft above the screen, so that the people on the other side may see them. All then bow down, and worship the two lights. Then the bearers of the corpse are invested with the namam, after which the whole of those assembled drink of the holy water in the brass vessel. A little holy water, betel, etc., are now put into the rice plate, which is afterwards covered with soil upon the top of the grave. The party then eat the small portion of food which may be left, and, after trimming the lamp, proceed to their homes. The Nambi who officiates is supposed to be particularly holy. If he is wicked and unclean, and yet draws and sits upon the magic diagrams, he will bring loss and sorrow upon his own head.

“There is no other ceremony until the night of the twelfth day. On this day, not only is the floor plastered with cow-dung, but the whole house is cleaned outside and in. All the inmates of the house bathe, shave, and put on clean clothes. Then, as on the fifth day, an animal is killed, and the flesh is cooked exactly as before. In the north-east or god’s corner, the panchakshari (five cornered) diagram is inscribed, and a handful of rice is put in the middle. As before, cocoanuts, etc., are placed at the five corners, and before the drawing are placed five copper images. The Dasari who performs the ceremony places two leaf plates before these images, and, breaking a couple of cocoanuts, sacrifices to them. After this, the Nambi, Dasaris, Kondigadu, corpse-bearers, and bearers of the pots, each drink two measures of toddy, and eat some of the flesh cooked in the second pot. The party, consisting entirely of males, now take as much food as will be required for the forthcoming ceremony, and proceed towards the grave, which has been previous to this plastered and decorated, and a little shrine erected at the head. On their arrival, a diagram, called panchakshari is drawn on the grave in black, yellow, and white. At the five corners are placed cocoanut, lime, etc. In the middle is placed a leaf plate with food on it, and a cocoanut is offered, the two halves being placed one on each side of the plate. A lamp is now lighted, and placed in the little shrine at the head of the grave, which the Nambi worships. It may be noted that the ashtakshari diagram is the sign of Vishnu or Narayanamurti, and the panchakshari is the sign of Siva. The reason for both being used is that Vishnu is the preserver, and Siva the destroyer. If Siva alone is worshipped, he will only cease from destroying; if Vishnu alone is worshipped, he cannot keep from destruction. Hence there is a sort of compromise, so that the benefits rendered by each god may be reaped. The Nambi now invests all the males present with the namam, and, if there is a widow, she is made to put on the bottu or small circular mark, the symbol most often being associated with Siva. The widow is made to sit in the middle of the house, with a leaf plate set before her. There she is stripped of all the jewels she wore as a married woman. Afterwards she is taken inside by some widows, and, after bathing, dons a cloth which has been brought for her by her brothers. Her own cloth is left outside, and must be sent from there to the washerman. It afterwards becomes a perquisite of the Dasari. If the deceased was a married woman, the widower would be deprived of his toe-ring, bathed, and clothed in a new cloth.

“On the occasion of Divasalu, blood relatives are all supposed to be present, and the ceremony is an expensive one, poor people often spending on this occasion alone as much as they can earn in a couple of months. The first ceremony is not so expensive, and will only cost about five rupees. All the male relatives of the dead man, or the brothers-in-law of a dead woman, must bring a little rice and some sticks of incense. If they are quite unable to attend the ceremony, they will clean their own houses, and will then perform some ceremony to the deceased. The relatives of the wife who come to the ceremony will not proceed to the house, or even to the caste quarters, but will go to the toddy shop, whence they send word of their arrival. As soon as the head of the house hears of this, he also proceeds to the toddy shop, and each one treats the other to drink. If they do not wish to drink, the one will pour a little liquor into the palm of the other. This ceremony is called chedupaputa (the taking away of bitterness), and without it they cannot visit one another’s houses. These relatives must only partake of food on the night of their arrival and next day, but on no account must they linger till the light is lit on the thirteenth day.

“The above ceremony is that performed by the Namdaris or Vishnuvites, who are not afraid of pollution, but who must do all things according to a prescribed ritual. We will now consider the ceremonies of the Mondis or Saivites, who think little of ceremony, but much of defilement. These take the dying person outside, and, as soon as it is realised that the end is near, all arrangements are made as to who is to cook, carry the corpse, etc. Before the breath has left the body, some go to the bazaar to purchase a new cloth. The women smear themselves with turmeric as at a wedding, and put a circular red mark (bottu) on the forehead, whilst the men smear ashes on their foreheads. As soon as the food is cooked, the dead body is washed, and placed upon a bier. Most of the Vishnuvites do not use a bier. The corpse is carried to the grave, accompanied with fire and water as in the Vishnuvite ceremony. Shortly before the grave-yard is reached, a halt is made. The cloth which has been placed over the face is torn, and a cooking pot is broken, after which the body is taken to the grave, and buried without covering, lying prone on the face. After the earth has been filled in, the son of the deceased takes an earthen water-pot full of water, and bores a hole in it, so that the water may escape. He then makes three circuits of the grave, allowing the water to flow on the ground. After each circuit, he makes a fresh hole in the pot. He then goes away without looking back on the grave. When the funeral party, which consists only of men, reaches the house, they find that some of the old women have made a heap of cow-dung, at the top of which is a little hollow filled with water. Those who have returned from the grave dip their great toes in this water, and then linger on the threshold to worship the lamp which is inside. After this, the lamp is taken, and thrown outside the village, and, on their return, they bathe in hot water. The Saivites perform the first ceremony for the dead on the third day, and they have neither Nambi nor priest, but perform the whole ceremony themselves. Like the Vishnuvites, they thoroughly cleanse and plaster the house. There is no animal sacrifice, but food is prepared with vegetables. A tray is plaited from the twigs of the tamarind tree (Tamarindus indica), and in this is placed a leaf plate containing food, frankincense, betel, etc. This food offering is carried to the grave along with fire and water at about eight o’clock in the morning. The man who carries the food must wear only a torn cloth, and yet with this he must manage to cover his head. On reaching the grave, they worship. The tray is left at the head of the grave, and the people retire a short distance, and there wait until a crow or a kite comes, and takes food from the tray. The more quickly this occurs, the greater the merit obtained by the deceased. They never go away until either the one or the other of these birds comes. They afterwards proceed to the well, and bathe fully. On the twelfth day, another ceremony is performed. In the morning, all those taking part in the ceremony proceed to some place outside the village where they shave, and put on clean clothes which have come direct to that place from the washerman. They then go to some temple, and there obtain a little holy water, with which they afterwards sprinkle themselves, the widow, and the house of the deceased. The widow is then arrayed in all her clothes and jewels, and is taken weeping to the ‘widow’s harbour.’ There a stone image is set up, and worshipped. Then the woman’s jewels are taken off, and her bracelets broken. Sweet food is cooked and partaken of, all bathe, and return to their homes. After this ceremony, poor people will stay in their houses for three days, and rich people for a much longer period. For several years, on the anniversary of the death, some little ceremony is usually performed.”

In connection with Mala Dasaris, to whom reference has already been made, Mr. Nicholson writes as follows. “There is a considerable number of individuals who obtained their living through religious mendicancy. They are known as Dasaris. There is usually a Nambi or Dasari for every three or four villages. Some few Dasaris have inam (rent-free) lands, but the majority live on the charity of the people. They do not ask alms, but sing hymns in honour of Chennudu or Pedda Muni. They also officiate as a sort of priest, and their services are requisitioned at the time of death, marriage, hair-cutting, and the creation of Basavis and Dasaris. The Dasari who officiates at a wedding ceremony cannot act in a case of death. There is, in the west Telugu country, a class called Varapu Dasari, who act as pujaris for the Sudras, and in all places the Dasari receives certain emoluments from Sudras for singing at weddings and funerals. They receive alms from all classes. Occasionally disturbances take place on account of the Saivites objecting to the Dasaris coming into their streets, and it is at such times as these that pavadamu is said to take place. It is firmly believed that, if a Dasari is offended, he will revenge himself in smaller offences by piercing his cheeks or side, for a serious offence by killing himself, generally by severing the head from the body. If one kills himself in this way, the news is said to be immediately and miraculously communicated to every Dasari and Nambi in the country. They all come to the place where the body lies. Until their arrival, this has been kept covered with a new cloth, and water is constantly sprinkled over it, to keep the wounds from drying up. When the Gurus, Dasaris, and others are collected, they show their magic power by frying fish, which come to life again on being placed in water, and by cutting limes in two and making them join together, while the remainder sing hymns to Chennudu, and call on the name of Govinda. The Gurus then dig a hole, and in it light the sacred fire of sandal-wood, which must be kindled by the friction of two pieces of wood. All assemble before this sacred fire, and join in singing or reciting the Dandakamu, after which the Dasaris dance a dance called the request dance. A lotus flower is simulated by arranging betel leaves in a small chembu (metal vessel), and this is placed in a plate along with the severed head. The tray is then carried three times round the corpse by the wife of the deceased if he was married; if not, by his mother; and, if he had no kin, by a Basavi. The head is then taken by the Guru, and fixed properly to the trunk, the junction being plentifully daubed with sacred earth (tirumani). A new cloth is then spread over the corpse, and a network of flowers over all. The Dasaris again walk round the corpse, calling on Tembaru Manara, repeating at the same time a mantram. Then Kurumayya, the caste Guru, strokes the corpse from head to foot three times with his staff, after which he places his foot on the head of the corpse, and calls on the body to rise. The ability of the Dasaris to perform this marvel is implicitly believed in. Some I have asked have seen it attempted, but on one occasion it failed because the wife was unwell (under menstrual pollution). On another occasion, the ceremony was not carried out with fitting reverence, and failed in consequence.

“The chief people among the Dasaris are Guru, Annalayya, Godugulayya (umbrella men), and Tuttulayya (horn-blowers). The Dasaris have got certain badges of office, which are supposed to have been given by Chennudu on the conquest of Vijayanagar. [According to tradition, between the 8th and 11th centuries A.D. there was great rivalry between the Saivite and Vishnuvite sects, and it is supposed that Kurumayya, fighting on the side of the Vishnuvites, by the aid of the god Chennudu was able to suppress and overcome the followers of Siva. He thus became the Guru of the Malas.] The Dasari’s insignia consist of an iron staff, copper pot, tiger skin, antelope skin, etc. Besides these, some of the chief Dasaris are said to possess copper inscriptions given to them by the kings of Vijayanagar, but these they refuse to allow any one to see.”

Concerning the practice of making Basavis (dedicated prostitutes), Mr. Nicholson writes as follows. “The origin of the Basavis is said to be thus. In former times, the Asadhis had the duty and privilege of dancing and singing before the God, but this office was always performed by a male. On one occasion, there was no male to take up the duties, and, as there was no prospect of further children, one of the daughters was appointed to the work, so that the livelihood would not be lost. Then no one came forward to marry the girl, and she found it impossible to live a good life. The fact, however, that she was a servant of the God kept her from disgrace, and from that time it has been customary to dedicate these girls to the God’s service. Nowadays, the girl goes through a ceremony with a knife, which is placed in front of the God, and, as at ordinary weddings, there are all the various ceremonies performed, and feasts eaten. If at the time of the wedding, any man wishes to have a sort of proprietary right, he may obtain the same by paying a sort of dowry. The elders of the village must give their consent to the dedication, and usually signify this by eating out of the same plate as the bride. In the west Telugu country, parents who have good looking daughters, no matter what their class, give them as Basavis. But, in the east Telugu country, only the Asadhi, Beineni, and Pambala people do so. A Basavi can never be widowed, and people say they are consecrated to the God. Consequently, their life, though a life of sin, is not considered so by the Gods. Yet by a strange inconsistency, men consorting with Basavis are immediately branded as loose men. The first few years of a Basavi’s life are full of profit, and it is probably for this reason that parents are willing thus to sacrifice their daughters. Afterwards, when the charms of youth are passed, the Basavi resorts to begging, or, with two or three more, obtains a precarious livelihood by music and dancing. Their children have a share in the maternal father’s property.

“The above account of a Basavi’s dedication applies to the Asadhis or singing beggars. The following is a more detailed description of the ceremony as performed by the Dasaris. The girl to be dedicated is dressed in a white ravike and cloth, after which she is conducted to the priest who is to officiate. He burns the signs of a chank and chakram on the girl’s shoulders, presenting to her at the same time holy water. After this, the priest receives the guruvu kanika, which consists not only of five rupees, but also five seers of rice, five cocoanuts, five garlics, and a quarter of a seer of betel nuts. The person giving the girl away now receives permission from the people and Guruvu, and attaches the marriage symbol to the girl’s neck. Before the tali is tied, the girl is made to sit on a blanket, upon which has been drawn the ‘throne,’ with her hands which clasp the Garuda stambha tied together with a wreath of flowers. Before the hands are unbound, in place of the usual dowry of about twenty rupees, five duddu (copper coins) are given into the hand of the priest. All assembled now worship the beggar’s staff, and, on proceeding to the place of lodging, food is given to the Dasaris. Usually the ceremonies are performed before the village shrine, but, at times of festival, they are performed before the God, in honour of whom the festival is being held. On returning to the village, the girl is obliged, for five consecutive Saturdays, to go round the village accompanied by a Dasari, to whose food and comfort she has to attend. This is, no doubt, a public announcement of the profession the girl has had put upon her. When puberty is arrived at, a feast is given, and thenceforward the girl is her own mistress.”

The Malas worship a variety of deities, including Gurappa, Subbarayadu, Gunnathadu, Sunkalamma, Poleramma, Gangamma, and Gontiyalamma. In connection with the worship of the goddess Gontiyalamma, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes, in a note on the Malas of the Godavari district, that “the special caste deity is Gontiyalamma, the mother of the five Pandava brethren. They say that Bhima threatened to kill his mother, who took refuge under an avireni pot (painted pot used at weddings) in a Mala’s house. For this she was solemnly cursed by her sons, who said that she should remain a Mala woman for ever. In commemoration of this story, a handful of growing paddy (rice) is pulled up every year at the Dasara festival, and, eight days later, the earth adhering to its roots is mixed with turmeric and milk, made into an image of the goddess, and hidden under the avireni pot. For the next six months this image is worshipped every Sunday by all the villagers in turn, and, on the Sivaratri night, it is taken round the village, accompanied by all the Malas bearing pots of rice and other food carried in a kavadi, and is finally thrown with much ceremony into a river or tank (pond or lake). This rite is supposed to mean that the goddess is the daughter of the caste, that she has lived with them six months, and that they are now sending her back with suitable gifts (the rice, etc.) to her husband. A common form of religious vow among Malas is to promise to send a cloth and a cow with the goddess on the last day of the rite, the gifts being afterwards presented to a married daughter.” It is noted by Mr. Hemingway that both Malas and Madigas hold a feast in honour of their ancestors at Pongal—an uncommon rite.

In the Godavari district scarcity of rain is dealt with in various ways. “It is considered very efficacious if the Brahmans take in procession round the village an image of Varuna (the god of rain) made of mud from the tank of a river or tank. Another method is to pour 1,000 pots of water over the lingam in the Siva temple. Malas tie a live frog to a mortar, and put on the top of the latter a mud figure representing Gontiyalamma. They then take these objects in procession, singing ‘Mother frog, playing in water, pour rain by pots full.’ The villagers of other castes then come and pour water over the Malas.”31 Mr. Nicholson writes that, to produce rain in the Telugu country, “two boys capture a frog, and put it into a basket with some nim (Melia Azadirachta) leaves. They tie the basket to the middle of a stick, which they support on their shoulders. In this manner they make a circuit of the village, visiting every house, singing the praises of the god of rain. The greater the noise the captive animal makes, the better the omen, and the more gain for the boys, for, at every house, they receive something in recognition of their endeavour to bring rain upon the village fields.”

Mala Arayan.—The Mala Arayans are described, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as “a class of hill tribes, who are a little more civilized than the Mannans, and have fixed abodes on the slopes of high mountain ranges. Their villages are fine-looking, with trees and palms all round. They are superior in appearance to most other hill tribes, but are generally short in stature. Some of the Arayans are rich, and own large plots of cultivated grounds. They seldom work for hire, or carry loads. A curious custom with them is that every man in the family has his own room separate from the rest, which only he and his wife are permitted to enter. They are very good hunters and have a partiality for monkey flesh. As wizards they stand very high, and all the low-country people cherish a peculiar dread for them. Makkathayam is the prevailing form of inheritance (from father to son), but among a few families marumakkathayam (inheritance through the female line) obtains as an exception. Their language is a corrupt form of Malayalam. Their marriage ceremony is simple. The bridegroom and bride sit and eat on the same plantain leaf, after which the tali (marriage badge) is tied. The bride then seizes any ornament or cooking vessel in the house, saying that it is her father’s. The bridegroom snatches it from her, and the marriage rite is concluded. Birth pollution is of considerable importance. It lasts for a whole month for the father, and for seven days for the mother. The Arayans bury their dead. Drinking is a very common failing.”

It is recorded by Mr. M. J. Walhouse32 that “on the higher ranges in Travancore there are three of Parasurama’s cairns, where the Mala Arraiyans still keep lamps burning. They make miniature cromlechs of small slabs of stone, and place within them a long pebble to represent the deceased. Dr. Livingstone noticed a similar custom in Africa. ‘In various villages we observed miniature huts about two feet high, very neatly thatched and plastered. Here we noticed them in dozens. On inquiry we were told that, when a child or relative dies, one is made, and, when any pleasant food is cooked or beer brewed, a little is placed in the tiny hut for the departed soul, which is believed to enjoy it.’ So the Mala Arraiyans offer arak (liquor) and sweetmeats to the departed spirit believed to be hovering near the miniature cromlech.”

In a detailed account of the Mala Arayans, the Rev. S. Mateer writes as follows.33 “The Arayans bury their dead; consequently there are many ancient tumuli in these hills, evidently graves of chiefs, showing just the same fragments of pottery, brass figures, iron weapons, etc., as are found in other similar places. These tumuli are often surrounded with long splintered pieces of granite, from eight to twelve or fifteen feet in length, set up on end, with sacrificial altars and other remains, evidently centuries old. Numerous vaults, too, called Pandi Kuri, are seen in all their hills. They stand north and south, the circular opening being to the south; a round stone is fitted to this aperture, with another acting as a long lever, to prevent its falling out; the sides, as also the stones of the top and bottom, are single slabs. To this day the Arayans make similar little cells of pieces of stone, the whole forming a box a few inches square; and, on the death of a member of any family, the spirit is supposed to pass, as the body is being buried, into a brass or silver image, which is shut into this vault; if the parties are very poor, an oblong smooth stone suffices. A few offerings of milk, rice, toddy, and ghee (clarified butter) are made, a torch is lighted and extinguished, the figure placed inside the cell, and the covering hastily put on; then all leave. On the anniversary, similar offerings being made, the stone is lifted off, and again hastily closed. The spirit is thus supposed to be enclosed; no one ventures to touch the cell at any other time.

“The objects of Arayan worship are the spirits of their ancestors, or certain local demons supposed to reside in rocks or peaks, and having influence only over particular villages or families. The religious services rendered to these are intended to deprecate anger rather than to seek benefits; but in no case is lust to be gratified, or wickedness practiced, as pleasing to these deities. One of their ancestors is represented by a brass image about three inches in height, the back of the head hollow, the hands holding a club and a gun. This represents a demonized man of wicked character, who lived about a century ago. He is said to have beaten his wife to death with a club; wherefore the people joined to break his skull, and he became a malignant demon. Another image carried an umbrella and staff, and had a milder countenance—this was a good demon. One such image is kept in each family, in which the spirit is supposed actually to reside. They were also put into the little square chambers described above. The Rev. W. J. Richards, of Cottayam, has favoured me with the following history, which throws much light upon this curious superstition. ‘Talanani was a priest or oracle-revealer of the hunting deity, Ayappan, whose chief shrine is in Savarimala, a hill among the Travancore ghats. The duty of Talanani was to deck himself out in his sword, bangles, beads, etc., and, highly frenzied with excitement and strong drink, dance in a horrid convulsive fashion before his idols, and reveal in unearthly shrieks what the god had decreed on any particular matter. He belonged to the Hill Arayan village of Eruma-para (the rock of the she-buffalo), some eight miles from Melkavu, and was most devoted to his idolatry, and rather remarkable in his peculiar way of showing his zeal. When the pilgrims from his village used to go to Savarimala—a pilgrimage which is always, for fear of the tigers and other wild beasts, performed in companies of forty or fifty—our hero would give out that he was not going, and yet, when they reached the shrine of their devotions, there before them was the sorcerer, so that he was both famous among his fellows and favoured of the gods. Now, while things were in this way, Talanani was killed by the neighbouring Chogans during one of his drunken bouts, and the murderers, burying his body in the depths of the jungle, thought that their crime would never be found out; but the tigers—Ayappan’s dogs—in respect to so true a friend of their master, scratched open the grave, and removing the corpse, laid it on the ground. The wild elephants found the body, and reverently took it where friends might discover it, and, a plague of small-pox having attacked the Chogans, another oracle declared it was sent by Sastavu (the Travancore hill boundary god, called also Chattan or Sattan) in anger at the crime that had been committed; and that the evil would not abate until the murderers made an image of the dead priest, and worshipped it. This they did, placing it in a grave, and in a little temple no bigger than a small dog kennel. The image itself is about four inches high, of bronze. The heir of Talanani became priest and beneficiary of the new shrine, which was rich in offerings of arrack, parched rice, and meat vowed by the Arayans when they sallied out on hunting expeditions. All the descendants of Talanani are Christians, the result of the Rev. Henry Baker’s work. The last heir who was in possession of the idol, sword, bangle, beads, and wand of the sorcerer, handed them over to the Rev. W. J. Richards in 1881.’

“Lamps to the memory of their ancestors were kept burning in little huts, and at stones used to represent the spirits of their ancestors. At one spot, where the genii were supposed to reside, there was a fragment of granite well oiled, and surrounded by a great number of extinguished torches. A most fearful demon was said to reside in a hollow tree, which had been worshipped by thousands of families. They did not know the precise hole in which the symbol was to be found; when discovered, it looked like the hilt of an old sword. One deity was said by the priest of a certain hill to have placed three curious looking rocks as resting-places for himself on his journey to the peak. Cocoanuts are offered to famous demons, residing in certain hills. It has been observed that, in cases of sickness, sometimes Arayans will make offerings to a Hindu god, and that they attend the great feasts occasionally; but in no case do they believe that they are under any obligation to do so, their own spirits being considered fully equal to the Hindu gods. Each village has its priest, who, when required, calls on the ‘hill’ (mala), which means the demon resident there, or the pretham, ghost. If he gets the afflatus, he acts in the usual way, yelling and screaming out the answers sought. The devil-dancer wears the kudumi, and has a belt, bangles, and other implements; and invokes the demons in case of sickness.

“They have some sacred groves, where they will not fire a gun, or speak above a breath; they have certain signs also to be observed when fixing on land for cultivation or the site of a house, but no other elaborate religious rites. In choosing a piece of ground for cultivation, before cutting the jungle they take five strips of bark of equal length, and knot all the ends together, holding them in the left hand by the middle. If all, when tied, form a perfect circle, the omen is lucky, and the position in which the cord falls on the ground is carefully noted by the bystanders.”

Mala Nayakkan.—A name returned by Tamil Malaiyalis at times of census.

Mala Vedan.—See Vedan.

Malai-kanda.—A sub-division of Vellala.

Malaiman.—See Udaiyan.

Malaiyadi (foot of the hills).—A sub-division of Konga Vellala.

Malakkar.—It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of Malabar, that “the Malakkars, also called Malamuttanmar and Malapanikkar, are a comparatively superior tribe of jungle cultivators and hunters found in the Calicut and Ernad hills. They follow the marumakkathayam system (of inheritance in the female line), and observe pollution for twelve days. They call their huts illams, and, if they leave them to go down to the plains, must bathe before returning. They consider themselves polluted by all castes below Nayars. The name Muttan is properly a title, meaning elder, confirmed on their headman by their janmis (landlords). Their chief god is Maladevan. They are good forest watchers and elephant catchers.”

Malara (a bundle of glass bangles, as carried about for sale).—An exogamous sept of Gauda.

Malasar.—The Malasars or Malsars are found in the Coimbatore district, and in the Cochin State. The following account of them was given by Buchanan a century ago.34 “The forests here are divided into Puddies, each of which has its boundary ascertained, and contains one or more families of a rude tribe, called Malasir. Both the Puddy and its inhabitants are considered as the property of some landlord, who farms out the labour of these poor people, with all they collect, to some trader (Chitty or Manadi). Having sent for some of these poor Malasirs, they informed me that they live in small villages of five or six huts, situated in the skirts of the woods on the hills of Daraporam, Ani-malaya, and Pali-ghat. They speak a mixture of the Tamul and Malayala languages. They are a better looking people than the slaves, but are ill-clothed, nasty, and apparently ill-fed. They collect drugs for the trader, to whom they are let, and receive from him a subsistence, when they can procure for him anything of value. He has the exclusive right of purchasing all that they have for sale, and of supplying them with salt and other necessaries. A great part of their food consists of wild yams (Dioscorea), which they dig when they have nothing to give to the trader for rice. They cultivate some small spots in the woods after the cotu-cadu fashion, both on their own account and on that of the neighbouring farmers, who receive the produce, and give the Malasirs hire. The articles cultivated in this manner are ragi (Eleusine Coracana), avaray (Dolichos Lablab), and tonda (Ricinus communis). They are also hired to cut timber and firewood. The god of their tribe is called Mallung, who is represented by a stone that is encircled by a wall, which serves for a temple. Once a year, in April, a sacrifice of goats, and offerings of rice, honey, and the like, are made by the Malasir to this rude idol. If this be neglected, the god sends elephants and tigers to destroy both them and their houses.”

The Malasars are described, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “a forest tribe living by hill cultivation and day labour. They are good at game-tracking, and very handy with their axes, with the help of which they will construct a bamboo house for the wandering sportsman in a few hours. They reside in hamlets known as pathis, each of which has a headman, called Vendari, who exercises the usual authority, with the assistance of a panchayat (council). One of the punishments inflicted by panchayats is to make the culprit carry a heavy load of sand for some distance, and then stand with it on his head and beg for forgiveness. They worship Kali and Mariamman, the small-pox goddess, but their special deity is Manakadatta, to whom they sacrifice fowls and sheep in the Masi. A man of the tribe acts as priest on these occasions, and keeps the heads of the offerings as his perquisite. An unusual item in their wedding ceremonies is the tying of an iron ring to the bridegroom’s wrist. They will eat and drink almost anything, except vermin and cobras. The Kadans regard themselves as superior to the Malasars.” It is noted, in the Manual of the Coimbatore district, that “the Malasars live at a much lower elevation than the Kadars. They are found almost down on the plains, and along the slopes near the foot of the hills. They are somewhat sturdier in general build, but have not the characteristic features of regular hillmen. They are not to be depended on in any way, but will desert en masse on the smallest excuse. They commit dacoities whenever they see an opportunity, and, in fact, even to this day, the roads near the foot of the hills are rarely traversed by low-country natives except in small bands, from fear of the Malasars. On the other hand, the Malasars are useful as being excellent axemen; and as baggage coolies they can hardly be dispensed with. They carry for the most part on their heads like low-country coolies, but unlike the Kadars and Puliyars, who, when they can be induced to carry at all, carry loads on their backs.”

There may be said to be three grades of Malasars, viz., the Malai (hill) Malasars, who live on the hills (e.g., at Mount Stuart on Anaimalais), and the Malasars who live on the slopes and the plains. It is said that Kadirs and Eravalars are admitted into the Malasar caste. The Kadirs abstain from eating the flesh of the ‘bison’ and cow, whereas the Malasars will eat the carrion of these animals. The settlements of the Malasars are called padhis or pathis, and their streets salais. These are Tamil names, denoting villages and rows. The padhis are named after the owners of the land on which they are built, e.g., Sircar (Government) padhi, Karuppa Goundan padhi. On the hills, the dwelling huts are made of bamboo matting thatched with grass and teak leaves, whereas on the plains the walls are made of mud, and are roofed with grass and bamboo. Like the Yanadis and Chenchus, the Malasars seem to have an objection to well-built houses, and a Malasar forester prefers his own rude hut to Government quarters.

Some Malasars work as coolies, while others are employed as agricultural labourers, or in collecting honey. A landlord keeps under him a number of Malasars, to whom he gives land free of rent, on which they raise their food-crops. In return, they are expected to work in the fields, and do other services for their landlord (Mannadi), who exercises absolute control over them. Sometimes, if a landholder has a grievance against another, it is not difficult to induce his Malasars to damage the crops of his enemy. The operations connected with the catching and taming of wild elephants are carried out by Malasars. They are proverbially lazy, and will take a week’s wages in advance, and spend a good portion thereof on drink on the same day. With the remainder provisions are purchased, and they may only put in three or four days’ work in the week. Like other hill tribes, they dig up yams when food is scarce.

Marriage is generally adult, though infant marriage is not prohibited. The Malasars of the plains perform the marriage ceremonies at the home of the bride. Monday is considered an auspicious day for their celebration. On the previous day, the contracting couple stand on a pestle, and are anointed, and bathe. Two balls of cooked rice, coloured red and black, are placed in a tray, and lighted wicks are stuck into them. The flames from the two wicks should be of the same height, or the omens would be considered unfavourable. The lights are waved in front of the bride and bridegroom, to ward off the evil eye. After bathing, the couple are seated on a dais within the marriage pandal (booth), and the bridegroom ties the tali (marriage badge) on the neck of the bride, and their hands are joined by the Muppan (headman). The tali consists of a brass disc, tied to a string dyed with turmeric. The couple eat from the same leaf or plate, and the ceremony is at an end.

The Malai Malasars bring the bride to the home of the bridegroom for the marriage ceremonies. The bridegroom goes on a Wednesday to the bride’s house and takes her to his home on the following day. A pandal, made of Sorghum and bamboo stems, is erected. Towards evening, the tali is tied, and the fingers of the contracting couple are linked together (kaidharam). They eat together from the same plate. The bridegroom should feed his relations and friends at his own house, as well as at that of the bride. He generally presents his mother-in-law with a female cloth, with an eight anna bit tied in the skirt thereof.

Ancestor worship is important among the Malayans. Before commencing their ceremonies, cooked rice and the flesh of the fowl are offered to the ancestors on seven leaves. On the occasion of a marriage, a little of the food is eaten by the bridegroom on a Wednesday, before he proceeds to the home of the bride.

When a girl reaches maturity, she occupies a separate hut for seven days. On the seventh day, she bathes and goes to the dwelling hut. A measure and a lamp are placed before the hut, and the girl has to go over them with her right foot foremost. She then steps backwards, and again goes over them before entering the hut.

The dead are usually buried, face upward. If the dead person was an elder, his personal effects, such as pillows, walking-stick, and clothes, are buried with him, or his corpse is cremated. Sometimes, the dead are buried in a sitting posture, in a niche excavated on one side of the grave. In the case of the Malasars of the plains, the widow chews betel leaf and areca nuts, and spits the betel over the eyes and neck of the corpse. On the third day after death, cooked rice and meat are offered to the soul of the deceased on seven arka (Calotropis gigantea) leaves. The male members of the family then eat from the same leaf.

The Malasars who live in the plains consider the Ficus glomerata tree sacred, and worship it once a year. At least one branch thereof should be used in the construction of the marriage pandal, and the menstrual hut should be made of it. The Malasars of the plains also avoid the use of the Pongamia glabra tree for any purpose. The hill Malasars worship, among other deities, Ponnalamman (Mariamma), Pullarappachi (Ganesa), and Kaliamman. To Ponnalamman, pigs and buffaloes are sacrificed once a year. The deity worshipped by the Malasars of the plains is Mariayi (Mariamma), at whose festival a stake is fixed in the ground, and eventually shaken by the Malasars, and removed by Paraiyans. The Malasar women of the plains wear glass bangles only on the left wrist. If a woman puts such bangles on both wrists, the Paraiyans are said to break them, and report the matter to the Muppan, who is expected to fine the woman. As Paraiyan women, like the Malasars, only wear glass bangles on one wrist, they take the wearing of bangles on both wrists by Malasar women, who are only their equals, as an insult.

The following graphic account of a Kama Mystery Play, in which Malasars are represented, has been given by Mr. S. G. Roberts.35 “The play, as the writer saw it in a little village on the banks of the Amravati river, was at once a mystery or miracle play, a mime, a tragedy that strangely recalled the Greek choral tragedies, and a satyric drama. These various ingredients gave it a quaint nebulous character, the play now crystallising into mere drama, and again dissolving into a religious rite. Just as an understanding of the Greek mythology is necessary for the full grasping of the meaning of a Greek tragedy, so it is necessary to portray the legend which is the basis of this mystery, all the more as the characters are Hindu gods. Kama, then, is the Hindu Cupid, not a tiny little child like the Roman god of love, but more like Eros. He has beautiful attributes. His bow is of the sugar-cane; his arrows are tipped with flowers; and his bow-string is a chain of bees—a pretty touch that recalls the swallow song of the Homeric bowstring. For all that, the genius of the country has modified the local idea of Eros. He has long ago found his Psyche: in point of fact, this Hindu Eros is a married man. His wife, Rathi, is the other speaking character, and she certainly displays a beautiful eloquence not unfitting her position. Moreover, like every married man, Kama has a father-in-law, and here the tragedy begins to loom out of the playful surroundings of a god of love of whatever nation or clime. Siva, the destroyer, he of the bright blue neck, the dweller, as Kama tauntingly says, among graves and dead men’s ashes; Siva, mighty in penance, is father of Rathi. In the play itself, he is not even a muta persona; he does not appear at all. What he does is only adumbrated by the action or song of the other characters. The legend strikingly illustrates the Hindu view of penance. Briefly stated, it is that anyone who performs any penance for a sufficiently long time acquires such a store of power and virtue, that the very gods themselves cannot stand against it. Hindu mythology affords many examples of this belief. Siva himself, in one of his incarnations, saved the whole Indian Olympus and the universe at large from a demi-god, who, by years of penance, had become charged, as it were, with power, like a religious electric ‘accumulator.’ The early sages and heroes of Indian story had greater facilities for the acquisition of this reserve of power, in that their lives lasted for centuries or even Æons. It may be imagined that three centuries of penance increased the performer’s strength to a degree not expressible in modern figures! In this case, the gods had viewed with alarm a penance which Siva had begun, and which threatened to make him master of all creation. In spite of a few grotesque attributes, the mythology lends to Siva a character at once terrific and awe-inspiring. When his third eye was closed on one occasion, the universe was involved in darkness, and the legend under discussion presents a solemn picture of the god, sitting with his rosary in sackcloth and ashes, immersed in his unending penance. Kama was deputed to break the spell. Accompanied by his nymphs, he sported before the recluse, taking all shapes that could ‘shake the saintship of an anchorite,’ till this oriental St. Anthony, but too thoroughly aroused, opened his tremendous frontal eye, and, with a flashing glance of rage, consumed the rash intruder on his solitude. Such is the legend which supplies the closing scene of the life of Kama, a life that is celebrated, as March begins, with several days’ rejoicing in every town and village of Southern India. The writer had seen the heap of bricks that support the Kama pillar in a village which he visited a few months after first landing in India. As March came round, he saw them in whatever village his work brought him, and the legend was impressed on his memory by a case in court, in which the momentous word ‘Kamadakshinasivalingamedai’ (or the high place of the emblem of Siva who consumed Kama) was pronounced by the various witnesses. It was not, however, till the spring of 1900 that an opportunity presented itself for witnessing the performance of the Kama mystery. The time of representation was the night, the playtime for old and young in India. It has this special advantage, from a theatrical point of view, that everything in a village street takes on an adventitious beauty. The heaps of dust, the ragged huts, lose their prominence, the palm trees become beautiful, and the tower of the temple grows in majesty. Everything that is ugly or incongruous seems to disappear, till the faÇade of a wealthy Hindu’s house wears the dignity of the old Grecian palace proscenium. The rag torches give a soft strong light, that adds effect to the spangled and laced robes of the actors, and leaves the auditory in semi-darkness, quite in accordance with Wagnerian stage tradition. Kama was represented in full dress, with a towering, crocketed, gilded mitre or helmet, such as is worn by the images of South Indian gods. He is not like the unadorned Eros of the Greeks, and he shows his Indian blood by the green which paints the upper half of his face. Kama had the bow of sugar-cane, and Rathi, otherwise dressed like a wealthy Hindu bride, also bore a smaller bow of the same. The buffoon must not be omitted. He figures in every Indian play, and here, besides the distinction of a girdle of massive cow bells gracefully supporting his paunch, he showed his connection with this love drama by a small bow of sugar-cane fastened upright, by one tip, to the peak of a high dunce’s cap. The play began by Kama boastfully, and at great length, announcing his intention of disturbing Siva’s penance. Rathi did her best to dissuade him, but every argument she could use only stirred up his pride, and made him more determined on the adventure. The dialogue was sometimes sustained by the characters themselves; sometimes they sang with dreadful harshness; sometimes they but swayed to and fro, as if in a Roman mimus, while the best voice in the company sang their songs for them. Now and then, the musicians would break into a chorus, which strikingly recalled, but for the absence of dancing, the Greek tragic chorus, especially in their idea of inevitable destiny, and in their lamentations over the disastrous end of the undertaking. Meanwhile, the buffoon played his part with more or less success, and backed up the astonishingly skilful and witty acting of the players, who provided the comic relief. In most Tamil dramas the action of the play is now and again suspended, while one or more comedians stroll on to the stage, and amuse the audience by a vesham, i.e., an impersonation of different well-known street characters representing men (and women) not only of different castes, but of different nations. Needless to say, the parts they play have little or nothing to do with the subject of the drama, but they afford great scope for delineation of character. There is not, of course, in Southern India, the uniformity in dress that we notice in England of the present day. A man’s trade, profession, religion, and sect are expressed by his dress and ornament—or lack of both. To mention three of the different veshangal shown on this occasion, there were a Mahrattah tattooing-woman, a north country fakir, and a man and woman of the Malsar caste, each of the parts being dressed to perfection, and admirably sustained. The Malsars are a low caste, and employed in certain parts as bearers of announcements of death (written on palm leaves) from the family of the deceased to relatives at a distance. As they hobbled about, bending over their short crooked crutch sticks, with turbans of twisted straw and bark, and girt with scanty and dirty sackcloth kilts, they would have made a mummy laugh; and they were equally mirth-provoking when they broke into a rough song and dance peculiar to chucklers (leather-workers) when more than usually intoxicated. When Kama had finally declared his unalterable determination to engage in his contest with Siva—a point which was only reached after discussion almost as interminable as a dialogue of Euripides—the performers, and part of the audience, moved off in a procession, which slowly perambulated the town, and halted for prayer before the village temple. The ‘stage wait’ was filled up by some simple playing and singing by a few local amateurs. This brought on the climax of the tragedy. The Kama stake, to give it an appropriate English name, was now ready. This was a slight stake or pole, a little above a man’s height, planted among a few bricks, and made inflammable by a thatching or coating of cholum straw bound round it. The top of this straw pillar was composed of a separate sheaf. When all was ready, and the chorus had sung a strain expressive of grief at Kama’s doom, a rocket, representing Siva’s fiery glance, shot along a string, and (with some external assistance) lighted the Kama stake, thus closely following the procedure in an Italian church festival. The player who represented Kama now retired into the background, as he was supposed to be dead, and the rest, hopping and dancing, circled slowly round the fire wailing for his fate. It seemed to be a matter of special import to the audience that the stake should be completely consumed. This was an omen of prosperity in the coming year. The funeral dance round the fire continued for a long while, and, when it was but a short time to sunrise, the mummers were still beating their breasts round the smouldering ashes. It seemed that, though some of the songs were composed for the occasion, a great part of the play was traditional, and the audience knew what to expect at any given period in the performance. At one stage it was whispered that now the giant would come in, and lift up a sheep with his teeth. In a few moments he made his appearance, and proved to be a highly comic monster. His arms, legs, and body were tightly swathed in neatly twisted straw ropes, leaving only his feet and hands bare. His head was covered by a huge canvas mask, flat on front and back, so that the actor had the appearance of having introduced his head into the empty shell of some gigantic crab. On the flat front of this mask-dial was painted a terrible giant’s face with portentous tusks. Thus equipped, the giant skipped round the various characters, to the terror of the buffoon, brandishing a quarter-staff, and executing vigorous moulinets. An unwilling sheep was pushed into the ring, and the giant, after much struggling, tossed the animal bodily over his head with a dexterous fling that convinced most of the onlookers that he had really performed the feat with his teeth.”

Malava.—The Malavas or Mala Bhovis are a small cultivating caste in South Canara, “the members of which were formerly hunters and fishermen. They profess Vaishnavism, and employ Shivalli Brahmans as their priests. Hanuman is their favourite deity. Like the Bants and other castes of Tuluva, they are divided into exogamous septs called balis, and they have the dhare form of marriage. They speak Canarese.”36 They are said to be really Mogers, who have separated from the fishing community. The term Bhovi is used to denote Mogers who carry palanquins, etc.

Malavarayan.—A title of Ambalakkaran.

Malayali.—The Malayalis or Malaialis, whom I examined in the Salem district, dwell on the summits and slopes of the Shevaroy hills, and earn their living by cultivating grain, and working on coffee estates. Suspicious and superstitious to a degree, they openly expressed their fear that I was the dreaded settlement officer, and had come to take possession of their lands in the name of the Government, and transport them to the Andaman islands (the Indian penal settlement). When I was engaged in the innocent occupation of photographing a village, the camera was mistaken for a surveying instrument, and a protest raised. Many of them, while willing to part with their ornaments of the baser metals, were loth to sell or let me see their gold and silver jewelry, from fear lest I should use it officially as evidence of their too prosperous condition. One man told me to my face that he would rather have his throat cut than submit to my measuring operations, and fled precipitately. The women stolidly refused to entrust themselves in my hands. Nor would they bring their children (unwashed specimens of brown humanity) to me, lest they should fall sick under the influence of my evil eye.

In the account which follows I am largely indebted to Mr. H. LeFanu’s admirable, and at times amusing, Manual of the Salem district.

The word Malaiali denotes inhabitant of the hills (malai = hill or mountain). The Malaialis have not, however, like the Todas of the Nilgiris, any claim to be considered as an ancient hill tribe, but are a Tamil-speaking people, who migrated from the plains to the hills in comparatively recent times. As a shrewd, but unscientific observer put it concisely to me, they are Tamils of the plains with the addition of a kambli or blanket; which kambli is a luxury denied to the females, but does duty for males, young and old, in the triple capacity of great coat, waterproof, and blanket. According to tradition, the Malaialis originally belonged to the Vellala caste of cultivators, and emigrated from the sacred city of Kanchipuram (Conjeeveram) to the hills about ten generations ago, when Muhammadan rule was dominant in Southern India. When they left Kanchi, they took with them, according to their story, three brothers, of whom the eldest came to the Shevaroy hills, the second to the Kollaimalais, and the youngest to the Pachaimalais (green hills). The Malaialis of the Shevaroys are called the Peria (big) Malaialis, those of the Kollaimalais the Chinna (little) Malaialis. According to another version “the Malaiali deity Kariraman, finding himself uncomfortable at Kanchi, took up a new abode. Three of his followers, named Periyanan, Naduvanan, and Chinnanan (the eldest, the middle-man, and the youngest) started with their families to follow him from Kanchi, and came to the Salem district, where they took different routes, Periyanan going to the Shevaroys, Naduvanan to the Pachaimalais and Anjur hills, and Chinnanan to Manjavadi.”

A further version of the legendary origin of the Malaialis of the Trichinopoly district is given by Mr. F. R. Hemingway, who writes as follows. “Their traditions are embodied in a collection of songs (nattukattu). The story goes that they are descended from a priest of Conjeeveram, who was the brother of the king, and, having quarrelled with the latter, left the place, and entered this country with his three sons and daughters. The country was then ruled by Vedans and Vellalans, who resisted the new-comers. But ‘the conch-shell blew and the quoit cut,’ and the invaders won the day. They then spread themselves about the hills, the eldest son (Periyanan), whose name was Sadaya Kavundan, selecting the Shevaroys in Salem, the second son (Naduvanan, the middle brother) the Pachaimalais, and the youngest (Chinnanan) the Kollaimalais. They married women of the country, Periyanan taking a Kaikolan, Naduvanan a Vedan, and Chinnanan a ‘Deva Indra’ Pallan. They gave their sister in marriage to a Tottiyan stranger, in exchange for some food supplied by him after their battle with the men of the country. Some curious customs survive, which are pointed to in support of this story. Thus, the women of the Pachaimalai Malaiyalis put aside a portion of each meal in honour of their Vedan ancestors before serving their husbands, and, at their marriages, they wear a comb, which is said to have been a characteristic ornament of the Vedans. Bridegrooms place a sword and an arrow in the marriage booth, to typify the hunting habits of the Vedans, and their own conquest of the country. The Malaiyalis of the Kollaimalais are addressed by Pallan women as brother-in-law (macchan), though the Malaiyalis do not relish this. It is also said that Tottiyan men regard Malaiyalis as their brothers-in-law, and always treat them kindly, and that the Tottiyan women regard the Malaiyalis as their brothers, but treat them very coldly, in remembrance of their having sold their sister ‘for a mess of pottage.’”

The account, which the Malaialis of the Javadi hills in North Arcot give of their origin, is as follows.37 “In S.S. 1055 (1132 A.D.) some of the Vedars of Kangundi asked that wives should be given them by the Karaikkat Vellalas of Conjeeveram. They were scornfully refused, and in anger kidnapped seven young Vellala maidens, whom they carried away to Kangundi. To recover them, seven Vellala men set out with seven dogs, leaving instructions with their wives that, if the dogs returned alone, they should consider that they had perished, and should cause the funeral ceremonies to be performed. Arriving at the Palar, they found the river in flood, and crossed it with difficulty ; but their dogs, after swimming half way, turned back and returned to Conjeeveram. The men, however, continued their journey, and killed the Vedars who had taken away their maidens, after which they went back to their homes, but found that they had been given up as lost, their wives had become widows, their funeral ceremonies performed, and they were in consequence outcastes. Under these circumstances, they contracted marriages with some Vedar women, and retired to the Javadis, where they took to cultivation, and became the ancestors of the Malaiali caste. This account has been preserved by the Malaialis in a small palm-leaf book.” There is, Mr. Francis writes,38 a tradition in the South Arcot district that “the hills were inhabited by Vedans, and that the Malaialis killed the men, and wedded the women; and at marriages a gun is still fired in the air to represent the death of the Vedan husband.” The Malaialis returned themselves, at the last census, as Karaikkat Vellalas. The Malaialis of South Arcot call themselves Kongu Vellalas. All the branches of the community agree in saying that they are Vellalans, who emigrated from Kanchipuram, bringing with them their god Kariraman, and, at the weddings of the Kalrayans in South Arcot, the presiding priest sings a kind of chant just before the tali is tied, which begins with the words Kanchi, the (sacred) place, and Kariraman in front. Copper sasanams show that the migration occurred at least as early as the beginning of the sixteenth century.

The Malaialis of the Shevaroys call themselves Kanchimandalam. Many, at the last census, returned themselves as Vellala and Karalan. Malakkaran and Mala Nayakkan are also used as synonyms for Malaiali. All have Goundan as their second name, which is universally used in hailing them. The first name is sometimes derived from a Hindu god, and my notes record Mr. Green, Mr. Black, Mr. Little, Mr. Short, Mr. Large, and Mr. Big nose.

As regards the conditions under which the Malaialis of the Salem district hold land, I learn from the Manual that, in 1866, the Collector fixed an area around each village for the cultivation of the Malaialis exclusively, and, in view to prevent aggression on the part of the planters, had the boundaries of these areas surveyed and demarcated. This area is known as the “village green.” With this survey the old system of charging the Malaialis on ploughs and hoes appears to have been discontinued, and they are now charged at one rupee per acre on the extent of their holdings. The lands within the green are given under the ordinary darakhast39 rules to the Malaialis, but outside it they are sold under the special waste land rules of 1863. In 1870 the Board of Revenue decided that, where the lands within the green are all occupied, and the Malaialis require more land for cultivation, land outside the limits of the green may be given them under the ordinary darakhast rules. In 1871 it was discovered that the planters tried to get lands outside the green by making the Malaialis first apply for it, thereby evading the waste land rules. The Board then ordered that, if there was reason to suspect that a Malaiali was applying for lands outside the green on account of the planters, the patta (deed of lease) might be refused.

Subscribing vaguely to the Hindu religion, the Malaialis, who believe that their progenitors wore the sacred thread, give a nominal allegiance to both Siva and Vishnu, as well as to a number of minor deities, and believe in the efficacy of a thread to ward off sickness and attacks by devils or evil spirits. “In the year 1852,” Mr. LeFanu writes, “a searching enquiry into the traditions, customs, and origin of these Malaialis was made. They then stated that smearing the face with ashes indicates the religion of Siva, and putting namam that of Vishnu, but that there is no difference between the two religions; that, though Sivaratri sacred to Siva, and Sriramanavami and Gokulashtami sacred to Vishnu, appear outwardly to denote a difference, there is really none. Though they observe the Saturdays of the month Peratasi sacred to Vishnu, still worship is performed without reference to Vishnu or Siva. They have, indeed, certain observances, which would seem to point to a division into Vaishnavas and Saivas, the existence of which they deny; as for instance, some, out of respect to Siva, abstain from sexual intercourse on Sundays and Mondays; and others, for the sake of Vishnu, do the same on Fridays and Saturdays. So, too, offerings are made to Vishnu on Fridays and Saturdays, and to Siva on Sundays and Mondays; but they denied the existence of sects among them.”

“On the Kalrayans,” Mr. Francis writes,40 “are very many shrines to the lesser gods. The Malaialis themselves do the puja (worship). The deities include Mariamma, Draupadi, and many other village goddesses. In some of the temples are placed the prehistoric celts and other stone implements which are found on these hills. The people do not understand what these are, and reverence them accordingly. The practice of taking oaths before these shrines to settle disputes is common. The party makes a solemn affidavit of the truth of his case in the presence of the god, holding some burning camphor in his hand. Having made his statement, he blows out the flame to signify that, if he is lying, the god is welcome to snuff him out in the same sudden manner.”

In April 1896, I paid a visit to the picturesquely situated village of Kiliur, not far distant from the town of Yercaud, on the occasion of a religious festival. The villagers were discovered, early in the morning, painting pseudo-sect-marks on their foreheads with blue and pink coal-tar dyes, with the assistance of hand looking-glasses of European manufacture purchased at the weekly market, and decorating their turbans and ears with the leafy stems of Artemisia austriaca, var. orientalis, and hedge-roses. The scene of the ceremonial was in a neighbouring sacred grove of lofty forest trees, wherein were two hut temples, of which one contained images of the goddess Draupadi and eight minor deities, the other images of Perumal and his wife. All the gods and goddesses were represented by human figures of brass and clay. Two processional cars were gaily decorated with plantain leaves and flags, some made in Germany. As the villagers arrived, they prostrated themselves before the temples, and whiled away the time, till the serious business of the day began, in gossiping with their friends, and partaking of light refreshment purchased from the fruit and sweetmeat sellers, who were doing a brisk trade. At 10 A.M. the proceedings were enlivened by a band of music, which played at intervals throughout the performance, and the gods were decorated with flowers and jewelry. An hour later, puja was done to the stone image of the god Vigneswara, within a small shrine built of slabs of rock. Before this idol cooked rice was offered, and camphor burnt. The plantain stems, with leaves, were tied to a tree in the vicinity of the temples, and cooked rice and cocoanuts placed beneath the tree. A man holding a sword, issued forth, and, in unison with the collected assemblage, screamed out “Govinda, Govinda” (the name of their god). The plantain stems were next removed from the tree, carried in procession with musical honours, and placed before the threshold of one of the temples. Then some men appeared on the scene to the cry of “Govinda,” bearing in one hand a light, and ringing a bell held in the other. Holy water was sprinkled over the plantain stems, and puja done to the god Perumal by offering samai (grain) and burning camphor. Outside one of the temples a cloth was spread on the ground, and the images of Draupadi and other deities placed therein. From the other temple Perumal and his wife were brought forth in state, and placed on two cars. A yellow powder was distributed among the crowd, and smeared over the face. A cocoanut was broken, and camphor burnt before Perumal. Then all the gods, followed by the spectators, were carried in procession round the grove, and a man, becoming inspired and seized with a fine religious frenzy, waved a sword wildly around him, but with due respect for his own bodily safety, and pointed it in a threatening manner at the crowd. Asked, as an oracle, whether the omens were propitious to the village, he gave vent to the oracular (and true) response that for three years there would be a scarcity of rain, and that there would be famine in the land, and consequent suffering. This performance concluded, a bamboo pole was erected, bearing a pulley at the top, with which cocoanuts and plantains were connected by a string. By means of this string, the fruits were alternately raised and lowered, and men, armed with sticks, tried to hit them, while turmeric water was dashed in their faces just as they were on the point of striking. The fruits, being at last successfully hit, were received as a prize by the winner. The gods were then taken back to their temple, and three men, overcome by a mock convulsive seizure, were brought to their senses by stripes on the back administered with a rope by the pujari (officiating priest). A sheep being produced, mantrams (prayers) were recited over it. The pujari, going to a pool close by, bathed, and smeared turmeric powder over his face. A pretence was made to cut the sheep’s throat, and blood drawn with a knife. The pujari, after sucking the blood, returned to the pool, and indulged in a ceremonial ablution, while the unhappy sheep was escorted to the village, and eventually eaten at a banquet by the villagers and their guests.

An annual festival, in honour of the god Servarayan, is held at the shrine on the summit of the Shevarayan hill, past which a stream flows. At this festival, in 1904, “on one side of the temple, two long rows of fruit, flower, and grain stalls were erected. Supported on two posts was a merry-go-round with wooden seats instead of boats, the cost of a ride thereon being a quarter of an anna. Women carried their children to a pool of water beside the temple, known as the wishing well, and, after sprinkling some of the holy fluid on themselves and their offspring, spoke their wishes aloud, fully believing that they would be granted. Suddenly there was a beating of drums, and blowing of trumpets, and horns, which announced the time when the god was to be brought out, and shown to the people, who made a rush to the temple, to obtain a good view. The god was carried by two priests robed in white, with garlands of jasmine round their necks. Then followed two other priests, clothed in the same manner, who bore the goddess on their shoulders. Another carried the holy water and fire in silver vessels from the temple, sprinkling the former in front of the deities, and the latter they passed before them. These services being completed, each deity was placed on a wooden horse with gay trappings, and carried to the top of the hill, where they were met with shouts from the people. The deities were placed in a palanquin, and carried to the four points of the hill, and, at each point, the men put their burden down, and cocoanuts were broken in front of them, and fruit, grain, and even copper coins were scattered. Those who wished to take the vow to be faithful to their god had to receive fifteen lashes on their bare backs with a stout leather thong, administered by the chief priest. When questioned about the pain, they answered, ‘Oh, it is nothing. It is just like being scratched by an ant.’ The god and goddess were then carried back into the temple.”41

Of this festival, as celebrated in May, 1908, the following account has been given.42 “The annual Malayali festival was held on the top of Shevarayan. It was the occasion of the marriage anniversary of the god Servarayan, after whom the Shevaroy Hills have been named, to a goddess, the presiding deity of the Cauvery river. This hill is believed by the Malayalis to be the place where their god Servarayan lived, died, and was buried. On one side of the hill, the temple of the god nestles in the midst of a sacred grove of trees. Some say that there is a secret tunnel leading from the shrine to another part of the hill, and a second one opening lower down into Bear’s Cave. It was an interesting sight to watch visitors and devotees as they came from the four quarters of the Shevaroys. A few hill-men danced a serpentine dance, stepping to the music supplied by village drums, and occasional shrill blasts from the horns. Huge cauldrons were sending up blue wreaths of smoke into the sky, which, it was explained to us, contained food to be dispensed as charity to the poor. The temple yard was hung with flowers and leaves, with which also the rude structure known as the temple gate was decorated. On the summit of the hill, wares of all sorts and conditions were displayed to tempt purchasers. The articles for sale consisted of fruits, palm sugar, cocoanuts, monkey nuts, and other nuts, mirrors which proved very popular among the fair sex, fancy boxes, coloured powder for caste marks, cloth bags, strings of sweet-scented flowers, rattles for children, etc.... We were startled by hearing the noise of loud drums and shrill trumpets, and were told that the god was about to be brought forth. This was accompanied by shouting, clapping, and the beating of drums. The god and goddess were placed in two chariots, bedecked with flowers, jewels and tapestries, and umbrellas and fans also figured prominently. The procession passed up to the left of the temple, the deities being supported on the shoulders of sturdy Malayalis. As the people met it, they threw fruit, nuts, and cocoanut water after the cars. The god was next placed by the temple pujari (priest) in the triumphal car, and was led with the goddess to that part of the hill from which the Cauvery can best be seen. Here the procession halted while the priest recited some incantations. Then it marched down the hill, sometimes resting the god on cairns specially built for the purpose, from where a view of the outlying villages is obtained. The belief is that, as the god glances at these villages, he invokes blessings on them, and the villagers will always live in prosperity.”

To Mr. W. Mahon Daly, I am indebted for the following account of a Malaiali bull dance, at which he was present as an eye-witness. “It is the custom on the Shevaroy hills, as well as the plains, to have a bull dance after the Pongal festival, and I had the pleasure of witnessing one in a Malaiali village. It was held in an open enclosure called the manthay, adjoining the village. It faces the Mariamma shrine, and is the place of resort on festive occasions. The village councils, marriages, and other ceremonies are held here. On our arrival, we were courteously invited to sit under a wide spreading fig-tree. The bull dance would literally mean a bull dancing, but I give the translation of the Tamil ‘yerothu-attum,’ the word attum meaning dance. This is a sport which is much in vogue among the Malaialis, and is celebrated with much Éclat immediately after Pongal, this being the principal festival observed by them. No doubt they have received the custom from those in the plains. A shooting excursion follows as the next sport, and, if they be so fortunate as to hunt down a wild boar or deer, or any big game, a second bull dance is got up. We were just in time to see the tamasha (spectacle). The manthay was becoming crowded, a regular influx of spectators, mostly women arrayed in their best cloths, coming in from the neighbouring villages. These were marshalled in a circle round the manthay, all standing. I was told that they were not invited, but that it was customary for them to pour in of their own accord when any sports or ceremonial took place in a village; and the inhabitants of the particular village were prepared to expect a large company, whom they fed on such occasions. After the company had collected, drums were beaten, and the long brass bugles were blown; and, just at this juncture, we saw an elderly Malaiali bring from his hut a coil of rope made of leather, and hand it over to the pujari or priest in charge of the temple. The latter placed it in front of the shrine, worshipped it thrice, some of the villagers following suit, and, after offering incense, delivered it to a few respectable village men, who in turn made it over to a lot of Malaiali men, whose business it was to attach it to the bulls. This rope the oldest inhabitant of the village had the right to keep. The bulls had been previously selected, and penned alongside of the manthay, from which they were brought one by one, and tied with the rope, leaving an equal length on either side. The rope being fixed on, the bull was brought to the manthay, held on both sides by any number who were willing, or as many as the rope would permit. More than fifteen on either side held on to a bull, which was far too many, for the animal had not the slightest chance of making a dart or plunge at the man in front, who was trying to provoke it by using a long bamboo with a skin attached to the end. When the bull was timid, and avoided his persecutors, he was hissed and hooted by those behind, and, if these modes of provocation failed to rouse his anger, he was simply dragged to and fro by main force, and let loose when his strength was almost exhausted. A dozen or more bulls are taken up and down the manthay, and the tamasha is over. When the manthay happens to have a slope, the Malaialis have very little control over the bull, and, in some instances, I have seen them actually dragged headlong to the ground at the expense of a few damaged heads. The spectators, and all the estate coolies who were present, were fed that night, and slept in the village. If a death occurs in the village a few days before the festival, I am told that the dance is postponed for a week. This certainly, as far as I know, is not the custom in the plains.”

The man of highest rank is the guru, who is invited to settle disputes in villages, to which he comes, on pony-back or on foot, with an umbrella over him, and accompanied by music. The office of guru is hereditary, and, when he dies, his son succeeds him, unless he is a minor, in which case the brother of the deceased man steps into his shoes. If, in sweeping the hut, the broom touches any one, or when a Malaiali has been kicked by a European or released from prison, he must be received back into his caste. For this purpose he goes to the guru, who takes him to the temple, where a screen is put up between the guru and the applicant for restoration of caste privileges. Holy water is dedicated to the swami(god), by the guru, and a portion thereof drunk by the man, who prostrates himself before the guru, and subsequently gives a feast of pork, mutton, and other delicacies. The Malaialis, it may be noted, will eat sheep, pigs, fowls, various birds, and black monkeys.

Each village on the Shevaroys has its own headman, an honorary appointment, carrying with it the privilege of an extra share of the good things, when a feast is being held. A Kangani is appointed to do duty under the headman, and receives annually from every hut two ballams of grain. When disputes occur, e.g., between two brothers regarding a woman or partition of property, the headman summons a panchayat (village council), which has the power to inflict fines in money, sheep, etc., according to the gravity of the offence. For every group of ten villages there is a Pattakaran (head of a division), who is expected to attend on the occasion of marriages and car festivals. A bridegroom has to give him eight days before his marriage a rupee, a packet of betel leaves, and half a measure of nuts. Serving under the Pattakaran is the Maniakaran, whose duty it is to give notice of a marriage to the ten villages, and to summon the villagers thereto.

In April 1898, on receipt of news of a wedding at a distant village, I proceeded thither through coffee estates rich with white flowers bursting into flower under the grateful influence of a thunderstorm. En route, a view was obtained of the Golden Horn, an overhanging rock with a drop of a thousand feet, down which the Malaialis swing themselves in search for honey. On the track through the jungle a rock, known from the fancied resemblance of the holes produced by weathering to hoof-marks as the kudre panji (horse’s footprints), was passed. Concerning this rock, the legend runs that a horse jumped on to it at one leap from the top of the Shevarayan hill, and at the next leap reached the plains at the foot of the hills. The village, which was the scene of the festivities, was, like other Malaiali villages, made up of detached bee-hive huts of bamboo, thatched with palm-leaves and grass, and containing a central room surrounded by a verandah—the home of pigs, goats, and fowls. Other huts, of similar bee-hive shape, but smaller, were used as storehouses for the grain collected at the harvest-season. These grain-stores have no entrance, and the thatched roof has to be removed, to take out the grain for use. Tiled roofs, such as are common in the Badaga villages on the Nilgiris, are forbidden, as their use would be an innovation, which would excite the anger of the Malaiali gods. The Malaialis have religious scruples against planing or smoothing with an adze the trees which they fell. The area of lands used to be ascertained by guesswork, not measurement, and much opposition was made to an attempt to introduce chain measurements, the Malaialis expressing themselves willing to pay any rent imposed, if their lands were not measured. Huts built on piles contain the flocks, which, during the day, are herded in pens which are removable, and, by moving the pens, the villagers manage to get the different parts of their fields manured. Round the village a low wall usually runs, and, close by, are the coffee, tobacco, and other cultivated crops. Outside the village, beneath a lofty tree, was a small stone shrine, capped with a stone slab, wherein were stacked a number of neolithic celts, which the Malaialis reverence as thunderbolts from heaven. I was introduced to the youthful and anxious bridegroom, clad in his wedding finery, who stripped before the assembled crowd, in order that I might record his jewelry and garments. On the first day, the bridegroom, accompanied by his relations, takes the modest dowry of grain and money (usually five rupees) to the bride’s village, and arranges for the performance of the nalangu ceremony on the following day. If the bride and bridegroom belong to the same village, this ceremony is performed by the pair seated on a cot. Otherwise it is performed by each separately. The elders of the village take a few drops of castor-oil, and rub it into the heads of the bride and bridegroom; afterwards washing the oil off with punac (Bassia oil-cake) and alum water. One of the elders then dips betel-leaves and arugum-pillu (Cynodon Dactylon) in milk, and with them describes a circle round the heads of the young couple, who do obeisance by bowing their heads. The proceedings wind up with a feast of pork and other luxuries. On the following day, the ceremony of tying the tali (marriage emblem) round the bride’s neck is performed. The bride, escorted by her party, comes to the bridegroom’s village, and remains outside it, while the bridegroom brings a light, a new mat, and three bundles of betel leaves and half a measure of areca nuts, which are distributed among the crowd. The happy pair then enter the village, accompanied by music. Beneath a pandal (booth) there is a stone representing the god, marked with the namam, and decorated with burning lamps and painted earthen pots. Before this stone the bride and bridegroom seat themselves in the presence of the guru, who is seated on a raised dais. Flowers are distributed among the wedding guests, and the tali, made of gold, is tied round the bride’s neck. This done, the feet of both bride and bridegroom are washed with alum water, and presents of small coin received. The contracting parties then walk three times round the stone, before which they prostrate themselves, and receive the blessing of the assembled elders. The ceremony concluded, they go round the village, riding on the same pony. The proceedings again terminate with a feast. I gather that the bride lives apart from her husband for eleven or fifteen days, during which time he is permitted to visit her at meal times, with the object, as my interpreter expressed it, of “finding out if the bride loves her husband or not. If she does not love him, she is advised by the guru and headman to do so, because there are many cases in which the girls, after marriage, if they are matured, go away with other Malaialis. If this matter comes to the notice of the guru, she says that she does not like to live with him. After enquiry, the husband is permitted to marry another girl.”

A curious custom prevailing among the Malaialis, which illustrates the Hindu love of offspring, is thus referred to by Mr. Le Fanu. “The sons, when mere children, are married to mature females, and the father-in-law of the bride assumes the performance of the procreative function, thus assuming for himself and his son a descendant to take them out of Put. When the putative father comes of age, and, in their turn, his wife’s male offspring are married, he performs for them the same office which his father did for him. Thus, not only is the religious idea involved in the words Putra and Kumaran carried out, but also the premature strain on the generative faculties, which this tradition entails, is avoided. The accommodation is reciprocal, and there is something on physiological grounds to recommend it.” Putra means literally one who saves from Put, a hell into which those who have not produced a son fall. Hindus believe that a son can, by the performance of certain rites, save the souls of his ancestors from this place of torture. Hence the anxiety of every Hindu to get married, and beget male offspring. Kumaran is the second stage in the life of an individual, which is divided into infancy, childhood, manhood, and old age. Writing to me recently, a Native official assures me that “the custom of linking a boy in marriage to a mature female, though still existing, has, with the advance of the times, undergone a slight yet decent change. The father-in-law of the bride has relieved himself of the awkward predicament into which the custom drove him, and now leaves the performance of the procreative function to others accepted by the bride.”

Widow remarriage among the Peria Malaialis is, I am informed, forbidden, though widows are permitted to contract irregular alliances. But, writing concerning the Malaialis of the Dharmapuri taluk of the Salem district, Mr. Le Fanu states that “it is almost imperative on a widow to marry again. Even at eighty years of age, a widow is not exempted from this rule, which nothing but the most persistent obstinacy on her part can evade. It is said that, in case a widow be not remarried at once, the Pattakar sends for her to his own house, to avoid which the women consent to re-enter the state of bondage.” Of the marriage customs of the Malaialis of the Javadi hills the same author writes that “these hills are inhabited by Malaialis, who style themselves Vellalars and Pachai Vellalars, the latter being distinguished by the fact that their females are not allowed to tattoo themselves, or tie their hair in the knot called ‘kondai.’ The two classes do not intermarry. In their marriage ceremonies they dispense with the service of a Brahman. Monday is the day chosen for the commencement of the ceremony, and the tali is tied on the following Friday, the only essential being that the Monday and Friday concerned must not follow new-moon days. They are indifferent about choosing a ‘lakkinam’ (muhurtham or auspicious day) for the commencement of the marriage, or for tying the tali. Widows are allowed to remarry. When a virgin or a widow has to be married, the selection of a husband is not left to the woman concerned, or to her parents. It is the duty of the Urgoundan to inquire what marriageable women there may be in the village, and then to summon the Pattan, or headman of the caste, to the spot. The latter, on his arrival, convenes a panchayat of the residents, and, with their assistance, selects a bridegroom. The parents of the happy couple then fix the wedding day, and the ceremony is performed accordingly. The marriage of a virgin is called ‘kalianam’ or ‘marriage proper’; that of a widow being styled ‘kattigiradu’ or ‘tying’ (cf. Anglice noose, nuptial knot). Adultery is regarded with different degrees of disfavour according to the social position of the co-respondents. If a married woman, virgin or widow, commits adultery with a man of another caste, or if a male Vellalan commits adultery with a woman of another caste, the penalty is expulsion from caste. Where, however, the paramour belongs to the Vellala caste, a caste panchayat is held, and the woman is fined Rs. 3–8–9, and the man Rs. 7. After the imposition of the fine, Brahman supremacy is recognised, the guru having the privilege of administering the tirtam, or holy water, to the culprits for their purification. For the performance of this rite his fee varies from 4 annas to 12 rupees. The tirtam may either be administered by the guru in person, or may be sent by him to the Nattan for the purpose. The fine imposed on the offenders is payable by their relatives, however distant; and, if there be no relatives, then the offenders are transported from their village to a distant place. Where the adulteress is a married woman, she is permitted to return to her husband, taking any issue she may have had by her paramour. In special cases a widow is permitted to marry her deceased husband’s brother. Should a widow remarry, her issue by her former husband belong to his relatives, and are not transferable to the second husband. The same rule holds good in successive remarriages. Where there may be no relatives of the deceased husband forthcoming to take charge of the children, the duty of caring for them devolves on the Urgoundan, who is bound to receive and protect them. The Vellalars generally bury their dead, except in cases where a woman quick with child, or a man afflicted with leprosy has died, the bodies in these cases being burnt. No ceremony is performed at child-birth; but the little stranger receives a name on the fifteenth day. When a girl attains puberty, she is relegated to a hut outside the village, where her food is brought to her, and she is forbidden to leave the hut either day or night. The same menstrual and death customs are observed by the Peria Malaialis, who bury their dead in the equivalent of a cemetery, and mark the site by a mound of earth and stones. At the time of the funeral, guns are discharged by a firing party, and, at the grave, handfuls of earth are, as at a Christian burial service, thrown over the corpse.”

If a woman among the Malaialis of the Javadi hills commits adultery, the young men of the tribe are said to be let loose on her, to work their wicked way, after which she is put in a pit filled with cow-dung and other filth. An old man naively remarked that adultery was very rare.

At a wedding among the Malaialis of the South Arcot district, “after the tali is tied, the happy couple crook their little fingers together, and a two-anna bit is placed between the fingers, and water is poured over their hands. The priest offers betel and nut to Kari Raman, and then a gun is fired into the air.”43

The father of a would-be bridegroom among the Malaialis of the Yelagiris, when he hears of the existence of a suitable bride, repairs to her village, with some of his relations, and seeks out the Urgoundan or headman, between whom and the visitors mutual embraces are exchanged. The object of the visit is explained, and the father says that he will abide by the voice of four in the matter. If the match is fixed up, he gives a feast in honour of the event. When the visitors enter the future bride’s house, the eldest daughter-in-law of the house appears on the threshold, and takes charge of the walking-stick of each person who goes in. She then, with some specially prepared sandal-paste, makes a circular mark on the foreheads of the guests, and retires. The feast then takes place, and she again appears before the party retire, and returns the walking-sticks.44

At a marriage among the Malai Vellalas of the Coimbatore district, the bride has to cry during the whole ceremony, which lasts three days. Otherwise she is considered an “ill woman.” When she can no longer produce genuine tears, she must bawl out. If she does not do this, the bridegroom will not marry her. In the North Arcot district, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,45 “a Malaiali bride is sometimes carried off by force, but this custom is viewed with much disfavour, and the bridegroom who resorts to it must paint his face with black and white dots, and carry an old basket filled with broken pots and other rubbish, holding a torn sieve over him as an umbrella, before the celebration of the marriage. At the wedding, the bridegroom gives the girl’s father a present of money, and a pile of firewood sufficient for the two days’ feast. On the first day the food consists of rice and dhal (Cajanus indicus), and on the second day pork curry is consumed. At sunrise on the third day the bridegroom produces the tali. A sword is then laid on the laps of the bridal pair, and the Nattan (headman), or an elderly man blesses the tali, and gives it to the bridegroom, who ties it round the bride’s neck. Before marriage, a man has to serve for at least a year in the house of the bride, in order to receive the consent of her parents.”

“The North Arcot Malaialis,” Mr. Stuart writes, “occupy eighteen nadus or districts. The Nattan (headman) of Kanamalai nadu is called the Periya (big) Nadan, and is the headman of the caste. He has the power to nominate Nattans for other nadus, to call caste panchayats, to preside over any such meetings, and to impose fines, and excommunicate any Malaiali. He can inflict corporal punishment, such as whipping with a tamarind switch, on those persons who violate their tribal customs. This power is sometimes delegated by him to the other Nattans. Of the fines collected, the Periya Nattan takes two shares, and the rest is distributed equally among the Urans (village heads). The village precincts are considered sacred, and even Brahmans are desired to walk barefoot along their alleys. They are both Saivites and Vaishnavites, and worship Kali and Perumal, wearing the namam and sacred ashes alike. Their worship is somewhat peculiar, and kept more or less a mystery. Its chief object is Kali, in whose honour they celebrate a feast once a year, lasting for fifteen days. During this time no people of the plains venture near them, believing that no intruder will ever leave the spot alive. Even the Malaiali women are studiously debarred from witnessing the rites, and those who take part in them are not permitted to speak to a woman, even should she be his wife. The ceremonies take place in the open air, at a particular spot on the hills, where the goddess is to be adored in the shape of a stone called Vellandiswami. The nature of the rites it is difficult to learn. In the village they worship, also excluding women, small images of Venkateswara of Tirupati, which are carefully concealed in caskets, and not allowed to be seen by people of other castes. A few bundles of tobacco are buried with the dead. When any one falls ill, the Malaialis do not administer medicine, but send for a pujari, and ask him which god or goddess the patient had offended. The assessment paid to Government by them is a fixed charge for each plough or hoe possessed, without reference to the extent of land cultivated. They collect jungle produce, particularly the glandular hairs of the fruits of a certain flower (Mallotus philippinensis), which is used by the Rangaris for dyeing silk a rich orange, and the roots of a plant called shenalinsedi, supposed to possess wonderful medicinal virtues, curing, among other things, snake-bite.” The Malaialis of the Javadi hills in the North Arcot district also earn a living by felling bamboos and sandal trees.

The Malaialis snare with nets, and shoot big game—deer, tigers, leopards, bears, and pigs—with guns of European manufacture. Mr. Le Fanu narrates that, during the Pongal feast, all the Malaialis of the Kalrayans go hunting, or, as they term it, for parvettai. Should the Palaiagar fail to bring something down, usage requires that the pujari should deprive him of his kudumi or top-knot. He generally begs himself off the personal degradation, and a servant undergoes the operation in his stead. A few years ago, a party of Malaialis of the Shevaroys went out shooting with blunderbusses and other quaint weapons, and bagged a leopard, which they carried on a frame-work, with jaws wide open and tail erect, round Yercaud, preceded by tom-toms, and with men dancing around.

The Malaiali men on the Shevaroys wear a turban and brown kumbli (blanket), which does duty as great coat, mackintosh, and umbrella. A bag contains their supply of betel and tobacco, and they carry a bill-hook and gourd water-vessel, and a coffee walking-stick. As ornaments they wear bangles, rings on the fingers and toes, and in the nose and ears. The women are tattooed by Korava women who come round on circuit, on the forehead, outside the orbits, cheeks, arms, and hands. Golden ornaments adorn their ears and nose, and they also wear armlets, toe-rings, and bangles, which are sometimes supplemented by a tooth-pick and ear-scoop pendent from a string round the neck. For dress, a sari made of florid imported cotton fabric is worn. I have seen women smoking cheroots, made from tobacco locally cultivated, wrapped up in a leaf of Gmelina arborea. Tattooing is said to be forbidden among the Malaialis of the Javadi hills in North Arcot.

Concerning the Malaialis of the Trichinopoly district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes as follows. “As far as this district is concerned, they are inhabitants of the Pachaimalais and Kollaimalais. The Malaialis of the two ranges will not intermarry, but have no objection to dining together. For purposes of the caste discipline, the villages of both sub-divisions are grouped into nadus. Each nadu contains some twenty or thirty villages. Each village has a headman called on the Pachaimalais Muppan, and on the Kollaimalais Ur-Kavundan or Kutti-Maniyam. Again, on the Pachaimalais, every five or ten villages make up a sittambalam, over which is a Kavundan, and each nadu is ruled by a Periya Kavundan. In the Kollaimalais there are no sittambalams, but the nadu there is also presided over by a Periya Kavundan, who is sometimes called a Sadi Kavundan. Again, on the Kollaimalais, the first four nadus are grouped into one pattam under the Pattakaran of Valappur, and the other three into another under the Pattakaran of Sakkiratti. The nadu headmen on the Pachaimalais also do duty as Pattakarans. All these appointments are hereditary. The permission of the Pattakaran has to be obtained before a marriage can take place, but, on the Kollaimalais, he deputes this power to the Sadi Kavundan. The Pattakarans of both ranges have recognised privileges, such as the right to ride on horseback, and use umbrellas, which are denied to the common folk.

“The Malaiyalis recognise the sanctity of the large Vishnu temple at Srirangam, and of the Siva temple at Anaplesvaran Kovil on the Kollaimalais. To the festival of the latter in Adi (July-August) the Malaiyalis of all three divisions flock. In every village is a temple or image of Perumal. Kali is also commonly worshipped, but the Malaiyalis do not connect her with Siva. Almost every village further contains temples to Mariyayi, the goddess of cholera, and to the village goddess Pidari. On the Kollaimalais, Kali is also looked upon as a village goddess, but she has no attendant Karuppans, nor is she worshipped by shedding blood. Pidari is often called Manu Pidari on the Pachaimalais, and is represented by a heap of mud. At midnight, a sheep and some cooked rice are taken to this, a man cleaning the pathway to the temple by dragging a bunch of leaves. The sheep is killed, and its lungs are inflated and placed on the heap. On the Kollaimalais two other goddesses, Nachi and Kongalayi, are commonly worshipped. At the worship of the former, perfect silence must be observed, and women are not allowed to be in the village at the time. It is supposed that, if anyone speaks during the ceremony, he will be stung by bees or other insects. The goddess has no image, but is supposed to appear from the surface of the ground, and to glitter like the comb of a cock. Kongalayi has an image, and her worship is accompanied by music. All these goddesses are worshipped every year before the ground is cultivated. The Malaiyalis, like the people of the plains, worship Pattavans. But, on the Kollaimalais, instead of thinking that these are people who have died a violent death, they say they are virtuous men and good sportsmen, who have lived to a ripe old age. The test of the apotheosis of such a one is that his castemen should have a successful day’s sport on some day that they have set aside in his honour. They sometimes offer regular sacrifices to the Pattavans, but more usually offer the head of any game they shoot. Sometimes a man will dream of some evil spirit turning Pattavan, and then he is taken to a Strychnos Nux-vomica tree, and his hair nailed to the trunk and cut. This is supposed to free the caste from further molestation. The same practice is observed on the Pachaimalais, if the ghost appears in a dream accompanied by a Panchama. On the Kollaimalais, holy bulls, dedicated to the Srirangam temple, are taken round with drums on their backs by men with feathers stuck in their hair, and alms are collected. When these animals die, they are buried, and an alari tree is planted over the grave. This practice is, however, confined to Vaishnavites, and to a few families. Saivites set free bulls called poli yerudu in honour of the Anaplesvaram god. These bulls are of good class, and, like the tamatams, are honoured at their death.

“The Malaiyali houses are built of tattis (mats) of split bamboo, and roofed with jungle grass. The use of tiles or bricks is believed to excite the anger of the gods. The Kollaimalai houses seem always to have a loft inside, approached by a ladder. The eaves project greatly, so as almost to touch the ground. In the pial (platform at the entrance) a hole is made to pen fowls in. On the tops of the houses, tufts of jungle grass and rags are placed, to keep off owls, the ill-omened kottan birds. The villages are surrounded with a fence, to keep the village pigs from destroying the crops outside. The Pachaimalai women wear the kusavam fold in their cloth on the right side, but do not cover the breasts. The Kollaimalai women do not wear any kusavam, but carefully cover their breasts, especially when at work outside the village site, for fear of displeasing the gods. The Pachaimalai people tattoo, but this custom is anathema on the Kollaimalais, where the Malaiyalis will not allow a tattooed person into their houses for fear of offending their gods.

“All the Malaiyalis are keen sportsmen, and complain that sport is spoilt by the forest rules. The Kollaimalai people have a great beat on the first of Ani (June-July), and another on the day of the first sowing of the year. The date of the latter is settled by the headman of each village, and he alone is allowed to sow seeds on that day, everyone else being debarred on pain of punishment from doing any manner of work, and going out to hunt instead. On the Kollaimalais, bull-baiting is practiced at the time of the Mariyayi festival in Masi (February-March). A number of bulls are taken in front of the goddess, one after the other, and, while some of the crowd hold the animals with ropes, a man in front, and another behind, urge it on to unavailing efforts to get free. When one bull is tired out, another is brought up to take its place.

“The Malaiyalis have a good many superstitions of their own, which are apparently different from those of the plains. If they want rain, they pelt each other with balls of cow-dung, an image of Pillaiyar (Ganesa) is buried in a manure pit, and a pig is killed with a kind of spear. When the rain comes, the Pillaiyar is dug up. If a man suffers from hemicrania, he sets free a red cock in honour of the sun on a Tuesday. A man who grinds his teeth in his sleep may be broken off the habit by eating some of the food offered to the village goddess, brought by stealth from her altar. People suffering from small-pox are taken down to the plains, and left in some village. Cholera patients are abandoned, and left to die. Lepers are driven out without the slightest mercy, to shift for themselves.

“With regard to marriage, the Malaiyalis of the Trichinopoly district recognise the desirability of a boy’s marrying his maternal aunt’s daughter. This sometimes results in a young boy marrying a grown-up woman, but the Malaiyalis in this district declare that the boy’s father does not then take over the duties of a husband. On the Kollaimalais, a wife may leave her husband for a paramour within the caste, but her husband has a right to the children of such intercourse, and they generally go to him in the end. You may ask a man, without giving offence, if he has lent his wife to anyone. Both sections practice polygamy. A betrothal on the Pachaimalais is effected by the boy’s taking an oil bath, followed by a bath in hot water at the bride’s house, and watching whether there is any ill omen during the process. On the Kollaimalais, the matter is settled by a simple interview. On both hill ranges, the wedding ceremonies last only one day, and on the Pachaimalais a Thursday is generally selected. The marriage on the latter range consists in all the relatives present dropping castor-oil on to the heads of the pair with a wisp of grass, and then pronouncing a blessing on them. The terms of the blessing are the same as those used by the Konga Vellalas. The bridegroom ties the tali. On the Kollaimalais, the girl is formally invited to come and be married by the other party’s taking her a sheep and some rice. On the appointed day, offerings of a cock and a hen are made to the gods in the houses of both. The girl then comes to the other house, and she and the bridegroom are garlanded by the leading persons present. The bridegroom ties the tali, and the couple are then made to walk seven steps, and are blessed. The garlands are then thrown into a well, and, if they float together, it is an omen that the two will love each other.

“Both sections bury their dead. On the Kollaimalais, a gun is fired when the corpse is taken out for burial, and tobacco, cigars, betel and nut, etc., are buried with the body.

“Two curious customs in connection with labour are recognised on both ranges. If a man has a press of work, he can compel the whole village to come and help him, by the simple method of inviting them all to a feast. He need not pay them for their services. A different custom is that, when there is threshing to be done, any labourer of the caste who offers himself has to be taken, whether there is work for him or not, and paid as if he had done a good day’s work. This is a very hard rule in times of scarcity, and it is said that sometimes the employer will have not only to pay out the whole of the harvest, but will also have to get something extra from home to satisfy the labourers.”

It is noted by Mr. Garstin46 that “in his time (1878) the Malaialis of the South Arcot district kept the accounts of their payments of revenue by tying knots in a bit of string, and that some of them once lodged a complaint against their village headman for collecting more from them than was due, basing their case on the fact that there were more knots in the current year’s string than in that of the year preceding. The poligars, he adds, used to intimate the amount of revenue due by sending each of the cultivators a leaf bearing on it as many thumb-nail marks as there were rupees to be paid.”

Malayali.—A territorial name, denoting an inhabitant of the Malayalam country. It is noted, in the Mysore Census Report, 1901, that this name came in very handy to class several of the Malabar tribes, who have immigrated to the province, and whose names were unfamiliar to census officials. There is, in the city of Madras, a Malayali club for inhabitants of the Malayalam country, who are there employed in Government services, as lawyers, or in other vocations. I read that, in 1906, the Malabar Onam festival was celebrated at the Victoria Public Hall under the auspices of this club, and a dramatised version of the Malayalam novel Indulekha was performed.

Malayan.—Concerning the Malayans, Mr. A. R. Loftus-Tottenham writes as follows. “The Malayans are a makkathayam caste, observing twelve days’ pollution, found in North Malabar. Their name, signifying hill-men, points to their having been at one time a jungle tribe, but they have by no means the dark complexion and debased physiognomy characteristic of the classes which still occupy that position. They are divided into nine exogamous illams, five of which have the names Kotukudi, Velupa, Cheni, Palankudi, and Kalliath. The men do not shave their heads, but allow the hair to grow long, and either part it in the middle, or tie it into a knot behind, like the castes of the east coast, or tie it in a knot in front in the genuine Malayali fashion. The principal occupation of the caste is exorcism, which they perform by various methods.

Malayan devil-dancer.

“If any one is considered to be possessed by demons, it is usual, after consulting the astrologer in order to ascertain what murti (form, i.e., demon) is causing the trouble, to call in the Malayan, who performs a ceremony known as tiyattam, in which they wear masks, and, so disguised, sing, dance, tom-tom, and play on a rude and strident pipe. Another ceremony, known as ucchaveli, has several forms, all of which seem to be either survivals, or at least imitations of human sacrifice. One of these consists of a mock living burial of the principal performer, who is placed in a pit, which is covered with planks, on the top of which a sacrifice is performed, with a fire kindled with jack wood (Artocarpus integrifolia) and a plant called erinna. In another variety, the Malayan cuts his left forearm, and smears his face with the blood thus drawn. Malayans also take part with Peruvannans (big barbers) in various ceremonies at Badrakali and other temples, in which the performer impersonates, in suitable costume, some of the minor deities or demons, fowls are sacrificed, and a Velicchapad pronounces oracular statements.”

As the profession of exorcists does not keep the Malayans fully occupied, they go about begging during the harvest season, in various disguises, of which that of a hobby-horse is a very common one. They further add to their income by singing songs, at which they are very expert. Like the Nalkes and Paravas of South Canara, the Malayans exorcise various kinds of devils, with appropriate disguises. For Nenaveli (bloody sacrifice), the performer smears the upper part of his body and face with a paste made of rice-flour reddened with turmeric powder and chunam (lime) to indicate a bloody sacrifice. Before the paste dries, parched paddy (unhusked rice) grains, representing small-pox pustules, are sprinkled over it. Strips of young cocoanut leaves, strung together so as to form a petticoat, are tied round the waist, a ball of sacred ashes (vibhuthi) is fixed on the tip of the nose, and two strips of palmyra palm leaf are stuck in the mouth to represent fangs. If it is thought that a human sacrifice is necessary to propitiate the devil, the man representing Nenaveli puts round his neck a kind of framework made of plantain leaf sheaths; and, after he has danced with it on, it is removed, and placed on the ground in front of him. A number of lighted wicks are stuck in the middle of the framework, which is sprinkled with the blood of a fowl, and then beaten and crushed. Sometimes this is not regarded as sufficient, and the performer is made to lie down in a pit, which is covered over by a plank, and a fire kindled. A Malayan, who acted the part of Nenaveli before me at Tellicherry, danced and gesticulated wildly, while a small boy, concealed behind him, sang songs in praise of the demon whom he represented, to the accompaniment of a drum. At the end of the performance, he feigned extreme exhaustion, and laid on the ground in a state of apparent collapse, while he was drenched with water brought in pots from a neighbouring well.

The disguise of Uchchaveli is also assumed for the propitiation of the demon, when a human sacrifice is considered necessary. The Malayan who is to take the part puts on a cap made of strips of cocoanut leaf, and strips of the same leaves tied to a bent bamboo stick round his waist. His face and chest are daubed with yellow paint, and designs are drawn thereon in red or black. Strings are tied tightly round the left arm near the elbow and wrist, and the swollen area is pierced with a knife. The blood spouts out, and the performer waves the arm, so that his face is covered with the blood. A fowl is waved before him, and decapitated. He puts the neck in his mouth, and sucks the blood.

The disguises are generally assumed at night. The exorcism consists in drawing complicated designs of squares, circles, and triangles, on the ground with white, black, and yellow flour. While the man who has assumed the disguise dances about to the accompaniment of drums, songs are sung by Malayan men and women.

Malayan.—A division of Panikkans in the Tamil country, whose exogamous septs are known by the Malayalam name illam (house).

Maldivi.—A territorial name, meaning a native of the Maldive islands, returned by twenty-two persons in Tanjore at the Census, 1901.

Male Kudiya.—A synonym of Kudiya, denoting those who live in the hills.

Maleru.—It is noted, in the Mysore Census Report, 1901, that “in some temples of the Malnad there exists a set of females, who, though not belonging to the Natuva class, are yet temple servants like them, and are known by the name of Maleru. Any woman who eats the sacrificial rice strewn on the balipitam (sacrificial altar) at once loses caste, and becomes a public woman, or Maleru.” The children of Malerus by Brahmans are termed Golakas. Any Maleru woman cohabiting with one of a lower caste than her own is degraded into a Gaudi. In the Madras Census Report, 1901, Male or Malera is returned as a sub-caste of Stanika. They are said, however, not to be equal to Stanikas. They are attached to temples, and their ranks are swelled by outcaste Brahman and Konkani women.

Maleyava.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a small Canarese-speaking caste of beggars. In the South Canara Manual, it is stated that they are “classed as mendicants, as there is a small body of Malayalam gypsies of that name. But there may have been some confusion with Malava and Male Kudiya.”

Mali.—“The Malis,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,47 “are now mostly cultivators, but their traditional occupation (from which the caste name is derived) is making garlands, and providing flowers for the service of Hindu temples. They are especially clever in growing vegetables. Their vernacular is Uriya.” It is noted, in the Census Report, 1901, that the temple servants wear the sacred thread, and employ Brahmans as priests. It is further recorded, in the Census Report, 1871, that “the Malis are, as their name denotes, gardeners. They chose for their settlements sites where they were able to turn a stream to irrigate a bit of land near their dwellings. Here they raise fine crops of vegetables, which they carry to the numerous markets throughout the country. Their rights to the lands acquired from the Parjas (Porojas) are of a substantial nature, and the only evidence to show their possessions were formerly Parja bhumi (Poroja lands) is perhaps a row of upright stones erected by the older race to the memory of their village chiefs.”

For the following note, I am indebted to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao. The Malis say that their ancestors lived originally at Kasi (Benares), whence they emigrated to serve under the Raja of Jeypore. They are divided into the following sub-divisions:—Bodo, Pondra, Kosalya, Pannara, Sonkuva, and Dongrudiya. The name Pondra is said to be derived from podoro, a dry field. I am informed that, if a Pondra is so prosperous as to possess a garden which requires the employment of a picottah, he is bound to entertain as many men of his caste as choose to go to his house. A man without a picottah may refuse to receive such visits. A picottah is the old-fashioned form of a machine still used for raising water, and consists of a long lever or yard pivotted on an upright post, weighted on the short arm, and bearing a line and bucket on the long arm.

Among the Bodo Malis, a man can claim his paternal aunt’s daughter in marriage, which takes place before the girl reaches puberty. A jholla tonka (bride-price) of forty rupees is paid, and the girl is conducted to the house of the bridegroom, in front of which a pandal (booth) has been erected, with nine pots, one above the other, placed at the four corners and in the centre. In the middle of the pandal a mattress is spread, and to the pandal a cloth, with a myrabolam (Terminalia fruit), rice, and money tied up in it, is attached. The contracting couple sit together, and a sacred thread is given to the bridegroom by the officiating priest. The bride is presented with necklaces, nose-screws, and other ornaments by the bridegroom’s party. They then repair to the bridegroom’s house. The ceremonies are repeated during the next three days, and on the fifth day the pair are bathed with turmeric water, and repair to a stream, in which they bathe. On their return home, the bridegroom is presented with some cheap jewelry.

Among the Pondra Malis, if a girl is not provided with a husband before she reaches puberty, a mock marriage is performed. A pandal (booth) is erected in front of her house, and she enters it, carrying a fan in her right hand, and sits on a mattress. A pot, containing water and mango leaves, is set in front of her, and the females throw turmeric-rice over her. They then mix turmeric powder with castor-oil, and pour it over her from mango leaves. She next goes to the village stream, and bathes. A caste feast follows after this ceremonial has been performed. The girl is permitted to marry in the ordinary way. A Bodo Mali girl, who does not secure a husband before she reaches puberty, is said to be turned out of the caste.

In the regular marriage ceremony among the Pondra Malis, the bridegroom, accompanied by his party, proceeds to the bride’s village, where they stay in a house other than that of the bride. They send five rupees, a new cloth for the bride’s mother, rice, and other things necessary for a meal, as jholla tonka (present) to the bride’s house. Pandals, made of four poles, are erected in front of the houses of the bride and bridegroom. Towards evening, the bridegroom proceeds to the house of the bride, and the couple are blessed by the assembled relations within the pandal. On the following day, the bridegroom conducts the bride to her pandal. They take their seat therein, separated by a screen, with the ends of their cloths tied together. Ornaments, called maguta, corresponding to the bashinga, are tied on their foreheads. At the auspicious moment fixed by the presiding Desari, the bride stretches out her right hand, and the bridegroom places his thereon. On it some rice and myrabolam fruit are laid, and tied up with rolls of cotton thread by the Desari. On the third day, the couple repair to a stream, and bathe. They then bury the magutas. After a feast, the bride accompanies the bridegroom to his village, but, if she has not reached puberty, returns to her parents.

Widow remarriage is permitted, and a younger brother usually marries the widow of his elder brother.

The dead are burnt, and death pollution lasts for ten days, during which those who are polluted refrain from their usual employment. On the ninth day, a hole is dug in the house of the deceased, and a lamp placed in it. The son, or some other close relative, eats a meal by the side of the hole, and, when it is finished, places the platter and the remains of the food in the hole, and buries them with the lamp. On the tenth day, an Oriya Brahman purifies the house by raising the sacred fire (homam). He is, in return for his services, presented with the utensils of the deceased, half a rupee, rice, and other things.

Mali further occurs as the name of an exogamous sept of Holeya. (See also Ravulo.)

Maliah (hill).—A sub-division of Savaras who inhabit the hill-country.

Malighai Chetti.—A synonym of Acharapakam Chettis. In the city of Madras, the Malighai Chettis cannot, like other Beri Chettis, vote or receive votes at elections or meetings of the Kandasami temple.

Malik.—A sect of Muhammadans, who are the followers of the Imam Abu ’Abdi ’llah Malik ibn Anas, the founder of one of the four orthodox sects of Sunnis, who was born at Madinah, A.H. 94 (A.D. 716).

Malle.—Malle, Malli, Mallela, or Mallige, meaning jasmine, has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Bestha, Holeya, Kamma, Korava, Kurni, Kuruba, Madiga, Mala, Odde, and Tsakala. The Tsakalas, I am informed, will not use jasmine flowers, or go near the plant. In like manner, Besthas of the Malle gotra may not touch it.

Malumi.—A class of Muhammadan pilots and sailors in the Laccadive islands. (See Mappilla.)

Mamidla (mango).—An exogamous sept of Padma Sale.

Mana (a measure).—An exogamous sept of Kuruba.

Manavalan (bridegroom).—A sub-division of Nayar.

Manayammamar.—The name for Mussad females. Mana means a Brahman’s house.

Mancha.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a Musalman tribe in the Laccadive islands.

Manchala (cots).—An exogamous sept of Odde. The equivalent mancham occurs as a sept of Panta Reddis, the members of which avoid sleeping on cots.

Manchi (good).—An exogamous sept of Padma Sale and Yanadi.

Mandadan Chetti.—There are at Gudalur near the boundary between the Nilgiri district and Malabar, and in the Wynad, two classes called respectively Mandadan Chettis and Wynad Chettis (q.v.).

The following account of the Mandadan Chettis is given in the Gazetteer of the Nilgiris. “They speak a corrupt Canarese, follow the makkatayam law of inheritance (from father to son), and seem always to have been natives of the Wynaad. Mandadan is supposed to be a corruption of Mahavalinadu, the traditional name still applied to the country between Nellakottai and Tippakadu, in which these Chettis principally reside. These Chettis recognise as many as eight different headmen, who each have names and a definite order of precedence, the latter being accurately marked by the varying lengths of the periods of pollution observed when they die. They are supposed to be the descendants in the nearest direct line of the original ancestors of the caste, and they are shown special respect on public occasions, and settle domestic and caste disputes. Marriages take place after puberty, and are arranged through go-betweens called Madhyastas. When matters have been set in train, the contracting parties meet, and the boy’s parents measure out a certain quantity of paddy (unhusked rice), and present it to the bride’s people, while the Madhyastas formally solicit the approval to the match of all the nearest relatives. The bride is bathed and dressed in a new cloth, and the couple are then seated under a pandal (booth). The priest of the Nambalakod temple comes with flowers, blesses the tali, and hands it to the bridegroom, who ties it round the bride’s neck. Sometimes the young man is made to work for the girl as Jacob did for Rachael, serving her father for a period (generally of from one to four years), the length of which is settled by a panchayat (council). In such cases, the father-in-law pays the expenses of the wedding, and sets up the young couple with a house and some land. Married women are not prohibited from conferring favours on their husbands’ brothers, but adultery outside the caste is severely dealt with. Adoption seems to be unknown. A widow may remarry. If she weds her deceased husband’s brother, the only ceremony is a dinner, after which the happy pair are formally seated on the same mat; but, if she marries any one else, a pandal and tali are provided. Divorce is allowed to both parties, and divorcÉes may remarry. In their cases, however, the wedding rites are much curtailed. The dead are usually burnt, but those who have been killed by accidents or epidemics are buried. When any one is at death’s door, he or she is made to swallow a little water from a vessel in which some rice and a gold coin have been placed. The body is bathed and dressed in a new cloth, sometimes music is played and a gun fired, and in all cases the deceased’s family walk three times round the pyre before it is fired by the chief mourner. When the period of pollution is over, holy water is fetched from the Nambalakod temple, and sprinkled all about the house. These Chettis are Saivites, and worship Betarayasvami of Nambalakod, the Airu Billi of the Kurumbas, and one or two other minor gods, and certain deified ancestors. These minor gods have no regular shrines, but huts provided with platforms for them to sit upon, in which lamps are lit in the evenings, are built for them in the fields and jungles. Chetti women are often handsome. In the house they wear only a waist-cloth, but they put on an upper cloth when they venture abroad. They distend the lobes of their ears, and for the first few years after marriage wear in them circular gold ornaments somewhat resembling those affected by the Nayar ladies. After that period they substitute a strip of rolled-up palm leaf. They have an odd custom of wearing a big chignon made up of plaits of their own hair cut off at intervals in their girlhood.”

Mandadi.—A title of Golla.

Mandai.—An exogamous section of Kallan named after Mandai Karuppan, the god of the village common (Mandai).

Mandha.—Mandha or Mandhala, meaning a village common, or herd of cattle collected thereon, has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Bedar, Karna Sale, and Madiga.

Mandi (cow).—A sept of Poroja.

Mandiri.—A sub-division of Domb.

Mandula.—The Mandulas (medicine men) are a wandering class, the members of which go about from village to village in the Telugu country, selling drugs (mandu, medicine) and medicinal powders. Some of their women act as midwives. Of these people an interesting account is given by Bishop Whitehead,48 who writes as follows. “We found an encampment of five or six dirty-looking huts made of matting, each about five feet high, eight feet long and six feet wide, belonging to a body of Mandalavaru, whose head-quarters are at Masulipatam. They are medicine men by profession, and thieves and beggars by choice. The headman showed us his stock of medicines in a bag, and a quaint stock it was, consisting of a miscellaneous collection of stones and pieces of wood, and the fruits of trees. The stones are ground to powder, and mixed up as a medicine with various ingredients. He had a piece of mica, a stone containing iron, and another which contained some other metal. There was also a peculiar wood used as an antidote against snake-bite, a piece being torn off and eaten by the person bitten. One common treatment for children is to give them tiles, ground to powder, to eat. In the headman’s hut was a picturesque-looking woman sitting up with an infant three days old. It had an anklet, made of its mother’s hair, tied round the right ankle, to keep off the evil eye. The mother, too, had a similar anklet round her own left ankle, which she put on before her confinement. She asked for some castor-oil to smear over the child. They had a good many donkeys, pigs, and fowls with them, and made, they said, about a rupee a day by begging. Some time ago, they all got drunk, and had a free fight, in which a woman got her head cut open. The police went to enquire into the matter, but the woman declared that she only fell against a bamboo by accident. The whole tribe meet once a year, at Masulipatam, at the Sivaratri festival, and then sacrifice pigs and goats to their various deities. The goddess is represented by a plain uncarved stone, about four-and-a-half or five feet high, daubed with turmeric and kunkuma (red powder). The animals are killed in front of the stone, and the blood is allowed to flow on the ground. They believe that the goddess drinks it. They cook rice on the spot, and present some of it to the goddess. They then have a great feast of the rest of the rice and the flesh of the victims, get very drunk with arrack, and end up with a free fight. We noted that one of the men had on an anklet of hair, like the woman’s. He said he had been bitten by a snake some time ago, and had put on the anklet as a charm.”

The Mandula is a very imposing person, as he sits in a conspicuous place, surrounded by paper packets piled up all round him. His method of advertising his medicines is to take the packets one by one, and, after opening them and folding them up, to make a fresh pile. As he does so, he may be heard repeating very rapidly, in a sing-song tone, “Medicine for rheumatism,” etc. Mandulas are sometimes to be seen close to the Moore Market in the city of Madras, with their heaps of packets containing powders of various colours.

Mangala.—“The Mangalas and Ambattans,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,49 “are the barber castes, and are probably of identical origin, but, like the potters, they have, by difference of locality, separated into Telugus and Tamilians, who do not intermarry. Both are said to be the offspring of a Brahman by a Vaisya woman. The Telugu name is referred to the word mangalam, which means happiness and also cleansing, and is applied to barbers, because they take part in marriage ceremonies, and add to the happiness on the occasion by the melodious sounds of their flutes (nagasaram), while they also contribute to the cleanliness of the people by shaving their bodies. The Telugus are divided into the Reddibhumi, Murikinadu, and Kurichinadu sub-divisions, and are mostly Vaishnavites. They consider the Tamilians as lower than themselves, because they consent to shave the whole body, while the Telugus only shave the upper portions. Besides their ordinary occupation, the members of this caste pretend to some knowledge of surgery and of the properties of herbs and drugs. Their females practice midwifery in a barbarous fashion, not scrupling also to indulge largely in criminal acts connected with their profession. Flesh-eating is allowed, but not widow marriage.”

“Mangalas,” Mr. Stuart writes further,50 “are also called Bajantri (in reference to their being musicians), Kalyanakulam (marriage people), and Angarakudu. The word angaramu means fire, charcoal, a live coal, and angarakudu is the planet Mars. Tuesday is Mars day, and one name for it is Angarakavaramu, but the other and more common name is Mangalavaramu. Now mangala is a Sanskrit word, meaning happiness, and mangala, with the soft l, is the Telugu for a barber. Mangalavaramu and Angarakavaramu being synonymous, it is natural that the barbers should have seized upon this, and given themselves importance by claiming to be the caste of the planet Mars. As a matter of fact, this planet is considered to be a star of ill omen, and Tuesday is regarded as an inauspicious day. Barbers are also considered to be of ill omen owing to their connection with deaths, when their services are required to shave the heads of the mourners. On an auspicious occasion, a barber would never be called a Mangala, but a Bajantri, or musician. Their titles are Anna and Gadu.” Anna means brother, and Gadu is a common suffix to the names of Telugus, e.g., Ramigadu, Subbigadu. A further title is Ayya (father).

For the following note on the Mangalas, I am indebted to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao. The caste is divided into two endogamous divisions, Telaga and Kapu, the ancestors of which were half brothers, by different mothers. They will eat together, but will not intermarry, as they regard themselves as cousins. The primary occupation of the caste is shaving the heads of people belonging to the non-polluting castes, and, for a small consideration, razors are lent to Madigas and Malas. A Mangala, in the Vizagapatam district, carries no pollution with him, when he is not actually engaged in his professional duties, and may often be found as storekeeper in Hindu households, and occupying the same position as the Bhondari, or Oriya barber, does in the Oriya country. Unlike the Tamil Ambattan, the Mangala has no objection to shaving Europeans. He is one of the village officials, whose duties are to render assistance to travellers, and massage their limbs, and, in many villages, he is rewarded for his services with a grant of land. He is further the village musician, and an expert at playing on the flute. Boys are taught the art of shaving when they are about eight years old. An old chatty (earthen pot) is turned upside down, and smeared with damp earth. When this is dry, the lad has to scrape it off under the direction of an experienced barber.

Mangala Pujari.—The title of the caste priest of the Mogers.

Mangalyam.—A sub-division of Marans, who, at the tali-kettu ceremony of the Nayars, carry the ashtamangalyam or eight auspicious things. These are rice, paddy (unhusked rice), tender leaves of the cocoanut, a mimic arrow, a metal looking-glass, a well-washed cloth, burning fire, and a small round wooden box called cheppu. Mangalyam occurs as the name for Marans in old Travancore records.

Mangalakkal.—This and Manigramam are recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as sub-divisions of Nayar.

Manikala (a measure).—An exogamous sept of Yanadi.

Manikattal.—A synonym of Deva-dasi applied to dancing-girls in the Tamil country.

Maniyakkaran.—Maniyakkaran or Maniyagaran, meaning an overseer, occurs as a title or synonym of Parivaram and Sembadavan. As a name of a sub-division of the Idaiyan shepherds, the word is said to be derived from mani, a bell, such as is tied round the necks of cattle, sheep, and goats. Maniyakkaran has been corrupted into monegar, the title of the headman of a village in the Tamil country.

Manjaputtur.—A sub-division of Chettis, who are said to have emigrated to the Madura district from Cuddalore (Manjakuppam).

Manla (trees).—An exogamous sept of Chenchu.

Mannadi.—A title of Kunnavans of the Palni hills, often given as the caste name. Also a title of Pallans and Muttans.

Mannadiyar.—A trading sub-division of Nayar.

Mannan.—The Mannans are a hill tribe of Travancore, and are said to have been originally dependents of the kings of Madura, whom they, like the Uralis and Muduvans, accompanied to Neriyamangalam. “Later on, they settled in a portion of the Cardamom Hills called Makara-alum. One of the chiefs of Poonyat nominated three of these Mannans as his agents at three different centres in his dominions, one to live at Tollairamalai with a silver sword as badge and with the title of Varayilkizh Mannan, a second to live at Mannankantam with a bracelet and the title of Gopura Mannan, and a third at Utumpanchola with a silver cane and the title of Talamala Mannan. For these headmen, the other Mannans are expected to do a lot of miscellaneous services. It is only with the consent of the headmen that marriages may be contracted. Persons of both sexes dress themselves like Maravans. Silver and brass ear-rings are worn by the men. Necklets of white and red beads are worn on the neck, and brass bracelets on the wrist. Mannans put up the best huts among the hill-men. Menstrual and puerperal impurity is not so repelling as in the case of the Uralis. About a year after a child is born, the eldest member of the family ties a necklet of beads round its neck, and gives it a name. The Mannans bury their dead. The coffin is made of bamboo and reeds, and the corpse is taken to the grave with music and the beating of drums. The personal ornaments, if any, are not removed. Before filling in the grave, a quantity of rice is put into the mouth of the deceased. A shed is erected over the site of burial. After a year has passed, an offering of food and drink is made to the dead. The language of the Mannans is Tamil. They have neither washermen nor barbers, but wash clothes and shave for one another. The Mannans stand ahead of the other hill-men from their knowledge of medicine, though they resort more to Chattu than to herbs. Drinking is a very common vice. Marumakkathayam is the prevailing form of inheritance (in the female line); but it is customary to give a portion to the sons also. Marriage takes the form of tali-tying. The tali (marriage badge) is removed on the death of the husband. Women generally wait for two years to marry a second husband, after the death of the first. A Mannan claims the hand of his maternal uncle’s daughter. The Sasta of Sabarimala and Periyar is devoutly worshipped. The Mannans are experts in collecting honey. They eat the flesh of the monkey, but not that of the crocodile, snake, buffalo or cow. They are fast decreasing in numbers, like the other denizens of the hills.”51

Concerning the Mannans, Mr. O. H. Bensley writes as follows.52 “I enjoy many pleasant reminiscences of my intercourse with these people. Their cheery and sociable disposition, and enjoyment of camp life, make it quite a pleasure to be thrown into contact with them. Short, sturdy, and hairless, the Mannans have all the appearances of an ‘aboriginal‘ race. The Mannan country extends southward from the limit occupied by the Muduvans on the Cardamom Hills to a point south of the territory now submerged by the Periyar works.53 They have, moreover, to keep to the east of the Periyar river. Smallpox ravages their villages, and fever lives in the air they breathe. Within the present generation, three of their settlements were at the point of extinction, but were recruited from other more fortunate bands. Very few attain to old age, but there were until lately three old patriarchs among them, who were the headmen of three of the most important sections of the tribe. The Muduvans and Mannans pursue the same destructive method of cultivation, but, as the latter are much fewer in numbers, their depredations are not so serious. None of the tribes east of the Periyar pay any tax to the Government, but are expected, in return for their holdings, to perform certain services in the way of building huts and clearing paths, for which they receive fixed payment. They have also to collect forest produce, and for this, too, they obtain fixed rates, so that their treatment by the Government is in reality of the most liberal kind. Mannans do not always look at things in quite the light one would expect. For example, the heir to an English Earldom, after a pleasant shooting trip in Travancore, bestowed upon a Mannan who had been with him a handsome knife as a memento. Next day, the knife was seen in the possession of a cooly on a coffee estate, and it transpired that the Mannan had sold it to him for three rupees, instead of keeping it as an heirloom. A remarkable trait in the character of the Mannans is the readiness with which they fraternise with Europeans. Most of the other tribes approach with reluctance, which requires considerable diplomacy to overcome. Not so the Mannan. He willingly initiates a tyro and a stranger into the mysteries of the chase. Though their language is Tamil, and the only communication they hold with the low country is on the Madura side, they have this custom in common with the Malayalis, that the chieftainship of their villages goes to the nephew, and not to the son. One does not expect to find heroic actions among these simple people. But how else could one describe the following incident? A Mannan, walking with his son, a lad about twelve years old, came suddenly upon a rogue elephant. His first act was to place his son in a position of safety by lifting him up till he could reach the branch of a tree, and only then he began to think of himself. But it was too late. The elephant charged down upon him, and in a few seconds he was a shapeless mass.”

Mannan (Washerman caste).—See Vannan and Velan.

Mannedora (lord of the hills).—A title assumed by Konda Doras. Manne Sultan is a title of the Maharaja of Travancore and the Raja of Vizianagram. The Konda Doras also style themselves Mannelu, or those of the hills.

Mannepu-vandlu.—Said54 to be the name, derived from mannemu, highland, for Malas in parts of the Godavari district.

Mannu (earth).—A sub-division of Oddes, who are earth-workers. Manti, which has also been returned by them at times of census, has a similar significance (earthen). Man Udaiyan occurs as a synonym of Kusavan, and Manal (sand) as an exogamous sept of Kappiliyan. Man Kavarai is recorded in the Salem Manual as the name of a class of salt makers from salt-earth.

Mantalayi.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nayar.

Mappilla.—The Mappillas, or Moplahs, are defined in the Census Report, 1871, as the hybrid Mahomedan race of the western coast, whose numbers are constantly being added to by conversion of the slave castes of Malabar. In 1881, the Census Superintendent wrote that “among some of them there may be a strain of Arab blood from some early generation, but the mothers throughout have been Dravidian, and the class has been maintained in number by wholesale adult conversion.” Concerning the origin of the Mappillas, Mr. Lewis Moore states55 that “originally the descendants of Arab traders by the women of the country, they now form a powerful community. There appears to have been a large influx of Arab settlers into Malabar in the ninth century A.D. and the numbers have been constantly increased by proselytism. The Mappillas came prominently forward at the time of the Portuguese invasion at the end of the fifteenth century A.D.” “The Muhammadan Arabs,” Dr. Burnell writes,56 “appear to have settled first in Malabar about the beginning of the ninth century; there were heathen Arabs there long before that in consequence of the immense trade conducted by the Sabeans with India.” “There are,” Mr. B. Govinda Nambiar writes,57 “many accounts extant in Malabar concerning the introduction of the faith of Islam into this district. Tradition says that, in the ninth century of the Christian era, a party of Moslem pilgrims, on their way to a sacred shrine in Ceylon, chanced to visit the capital of the Perumal or king of Malabar, that they were most hospitably entertained by that prince, and that he, becoming a convert to their faith, subsequently accompanied them to Arabia (where he died). It is further stated that the Perumal, becoming anxious of establishing his new faith in Malabar, with suitable places of worship, sent his followers with letters to all the chieftains whom he had appointed in his stead, requiring them to give land for mosques, and to endow them. The Perumal’s instructions were carried out, and nine mosques were founded and endowed in various parts of Malabar. Whatever truth there may be in these accounts, it is certain that, at a very early period, the Arabs had settled for commercial purposes on the Malabar coast, had contracted alliances with the women of the country, and that the mixed race thus formed had begun to be known as the Mappillas. These Mappillas had, in the days of the Zamorin, played an important part in the political history of Malabar, and had in consequence obtained many valuable privileges. When Vasco da Gama visited Calicut during the closing years of the fifteenth century, we find their influence at court so powerful that the Portuguese could not obtain a commercial footing there. The numerical strength of the Mappillas was greatly increased by forcible conversions during the period when Tippu Sultan held sway over Malabar.” [At the installation of the Zamorin, some Mappilla families at Calicut have certain privileges; and a Mappilla woman, belonging to a certain family, presents the Zamorin with betel nuts near the Kallai bridge, on his return from a procession through the town.] According to one version of the story of the Perumal, Cheraman Perumal dreamt that the full moon appeared at Mecca on the night of the new moon, and that, when on the meridian, it split into two, one half remaining in the air, and the other half descending to the foot of a hill called Abu Kubais, where the two halves joined together. Shortly afterwards, a party of pilgrims, on their way to the foot-print shrine at Adam’s peak in Ceylon, landed in Cheraman Perumal’s capital at Kodungallur, and reported that by the same miracle, Muhammad had converted a number of unbelievers to his religion.

The cephalic index of the Mappillas is lower than that of the other Muhammadan classes in South India which I have examined, and this may probably be explained by their admixture with dolichocephalic Dravidians. The figures are as follows:—

From the measurement of a very few Mappillas, members of the Hyderabad Contingent, and Marathas, who went to England for the Coronation in 1902, Mr. J. Gray arrived at the conclusion that “the people on the west coast and in the centre of the Deccan, namely the Moplas, Maharattas, and Hyderabad Contingent, differ considerably from the Tamils of the east coast. Their heads are considerably shorter. This points to admixture of the Dravidians with some Mongolian element. There is a tradition that the Moplas are descended from Arab traders, but the measurements indicate that the immigrants were Turkish, or of some other Mongolian element, probably from Persia or Baluchistan.”58

The cephalic indices, as recorded by Mr. Gray, were:—

The number of individuals examined is, however, too small for the purpose of generalisation.

In the Census Report, 1891, it is noted that some Mappillas have returned “Putiya Islam,” meaning new converts to Islam. These are mostly converts from the Mukkuvan or fisherman caste, and this process of conversion is still going on. Most of the fishermen of Tanur, where there is an important fish-curing yard, are Mukkuvan converts. They are sleek and well-nourished, and, to judge from the swarm of children who followed me during my inspection of the yard, eminently fertile. One of them, indeed, was polygynous to the extent of seven wives, each of whom had presented him with seven sons, not to mention a large consignment of daughters. On the east coast the occurrence of twins is attributed by the fishermen to the stimulating properties of fish diet. In Malabar, great virtue is attributed to the sardine or nalla mathi (good fish, Clupea longiceps), as an article of dietary.

“Conversion to Muhammadanism,” Mr. Logan writes,59 “has had a marked effect in freeing the slave caste in Malabar from their former burthens. By conversion a Cheruman obtains a distinct rise in the social scale, and, if he is in consequence bullied or beaten, the influence of the whole Muhammadan community comes to his aid.” The same applies to the Nayadis, of whom some have escaped from their degraded position by conversion to Islam. In the scale of pollution, the Nayadi holds the lowest place, and consequently labours under the greatest disadvantage, which is removed with his change of religion.

As regards the origin and significance of the word Mappilla, according to Mr. Lewis Moore, it means, ”(1) a bridegroom or son-in-law; (2) the name given to Muhammadan, Christian, or Jewish colonists in Malabar, who have intermarried with the natives of the country. The name is now confined to Muhammadans.” It is noted by Mr. Nelson60 that “the Kallans alone of all the castes of Madura call the Muhammadans Mappilleis, or bridegrooms.” In criticising this statement, Yule and Burnell61 state that “Nelson interprets the word as bridegroom. It should, however, rather be son-in-law. The husband of the existing Princess of Tanjore is habitually styled by the natives Mappillai Sahib, as the son-in-law of the late Raja.” “Some,” Mr. Padmanabha Menon writes,62 “think that the word Mappila is a contracted form of maha (great) and pilla (child), an honorary title as among Nairs in Travancore (pilla or pillay). Mr. Logan surmises that maha pilla was probably a title of honour conferred on the early Muhammadans, or possibly on the still earlier Christian immigrants, who are also down to the present day called Mappilas. The Muhammadans generally go by the name of Jonaga Mappilas. Jonaka is believed to stand for Yavanaka, i.e., Greek!”63 [In the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district, Yavana is recorded as meaning Ionia.] It is, indeed, remarkable that in the Payyanorepat, perhaps the earliest Malayalam poem extant, some of the sailors mentioned in it are called Chonavans. (The Jews are known as Juda Mappila.) Dr. Day derives the word Mapilla from Ma (mother) and pilla (child). [Wilson gives Mapilla, mother’s son, as being sprung from the intercourse of foreign colonists, who were persons unknown, with Malabar women.] Duncan says that a Qazi derived the name from Ma (mother) and pilla a (puppy) as a term of reproach! Maclean, in the Asiatic Researches, considered that the word came from maha or mohai (mocha) and pilla (child), and therefore translated it into children or natives (perhaps outcasts) of Mohai or Mocha. A more likely, and perhaps more correct derivation is given by Mr. Percy Badger in a note to his edition of the Varthema. “I am inclined to think,” he says, “that the name is either a corruption of the Arabic muflih (from the root fallah, to till the soil), meaning prosperous or victorious, in which sense it would apply to the successful establishment of those foreign Mussalmans on the western coast of India; or that it is a similar corruption of maflih (the active participial form of the same verb), an agriculturist—a still more appropriate designation of Moplahs, who, according to Buchanan, are both traders and farmers. In the latter sense, the term, though not usually so applied among the Arabs, would be identical with fella’h.” By Mr. C. P. Brown the conviction was expressed that Mappilla is a Tamil mispronunciation of the Arabic mu’abbar, from over the water.

“The chief characteristic of the Mappillas,” Mr. Govinda Nambiar writes, “as of all Mussalmans, is enthusiasm for religious practices. They are either Sunnis or Shiahs. The Sunnis are the followers of the Ponnani Tangal, the chief priest of the orthodox party, while the Shiahs acknowledge the Kondotti Tangal as their religious head. There are always religious disputes between these sects, and the criminal courts are not seldom called in to settle them.” In an account of the Mappillas,64 Mr. P. Kunjain, a Mappilla Government official (the first Mappilla Deputy Collector), states that “there are a few Moplahs in the Ernad and Waluwanad taluks who are the followers of the Kondotti Tangal, and are, therefore, believed to be heretics (Shias). The number of these is dwindling. The reason why they are believed to be heretics, and as such outcasted, is that they are enjoined by their preceptor (the Tangal) to prostrate before him. Prostration (sujud), according to strict doctrines, is due to God alone.” At Mulliakurichi in the Walluwanad taluk there are two mosques. One, the Pazhaya Palli, or old mosque, belongs to, or is regarded as belonging to the Kondotti sect of Mappillas. The other is called Puthan Palli, or new mosque. This mosque is asserted by the Ponnani sect of Mappillas to have been erected for their exclusive use. The Kondotti sect, on the other hand, claim that it was erected by them, as the old mosque was not large enough for the growing congregation. They do not claim exclusive use of the new mosque, but a right to worship there, just like any other Muhammadan. The Ponnani sect, however, claim a right to exclude the Kondotti people from the new mosque altogether. In September, 1901, there was a riot at the mosque between members of the rival sects. The Mappillas have a college at Ponnani, the chief seat of their religious organisation, where men are trained in religious offices. This institution, called the Jammat mosque, was, it is said, founded in the twelfth or thirteenth century A.D. by an Arab divine for the purpose of imparting religious instruction to youths of the Muhammadan community. The head of the institution selects the ablest and most diligent from among the students, and confers on him the title of Musaliar. He is then appointed to preach in mosques, and to explain the meaning of the Koran and other sacred writings. There are other religious offices, as those of the Kazi, Katib, and Mulla. The highest personages of divinity among them are known as Tangals. In the middle of the last century there was a very influential Tangal (Mambram Tangal), who was suspected of fomenting outbreaks, and who conferred his blessing on the murderous projects of his disciples. Of him it is stated that he was regarded as imbued with a portion of divinity, and that the Mappillas swore by his foot as their most solemn oath. Earth on which he had spat or walked was treasured up, and his blessing was supremely prized. Even among the higher class of Mappillas, his wish was regarded as a command.

Mr. A. R. Loftus-Tottenham informs me that “it is quite common now for Mappillas to invoke Mambram Tangal when in difficulties. I have heard a little Mappilla, who was frightened at my appearance, and ran away across a field, calling out ‘Mambram Tangal, Mambram Tangal.’ The Tangal, who had to be induced to leave Malabar, went off to Constantinople, and gained great influence with the Sultan.”

In 1822 it was recorded65 by Mr. Baber, in a circuit report, that the Tarramal and Condotty Tangals “pretend to an extraordinary sanctity, and such is the character they have established, that the people believe it is in their power to carry them harmless through the most hazardous undertakings, and even to absolve them of the most atrocious crimes. To propitiate them, their votaries are lavish in their presents, and there are no description of delinquents who do not find an asylum in the mosques wherein these Tangals take up their abode, whether pursued by the Police, or by their own evil consciences.” There is a legend current on the Kavarathi island of the Laccadives that a Tangal of that island once cursed the crows for dropping their excrement on his person, and now there is not a crow on the island. On another occasion, hearing the cries of a woman in labour, the Tangal prayed to God that the women of the island might suffer from no such pains in future. So strong is the belief in the immunity from the pangs of child-birth which was thus obtained, that the women of the neighbouring islands go over to Kavarathi for delivery, in order to have an easy confinement.66

In connection with Mappilla superstition, Mr. Tottenham writes as follows. “A beggar died (probably of starvation) by the roadside in Walluvanad taluk. When alive, no one worried about him. But, after he died, it was said that celestial voices had been heard uttering the call to prayer at the spot. The Mappillas decided that he was a very holy man, whom they had not fed during his life, and who should be canonised after death. A little tomb was erected, and a light may be seen burning there at night. Small banners are deposited by the faithful, who go in numbers to the place, and there is, I think, a money-box to receive their contributions.” Mr. Tottenham writes further that “the holy place at Malappuram is the tomb of the Sayyids (saints or martyrs) who were killed in a battle by a local military chieftain. These Sayyids are invoked. At Kondotti there is a very pretentious, and rather picturesque tomb—a square building of gneiss surmounted by a cupola—to one of the Tangals. Near it is a small tank full of more or less tame fish. It is one of the sights of the place to see them fed. At the great festival called neercha (vow), the Mappillas go in procession, headed by banners, elephants (if they possess them), and music, and carrying offerings to the head-quarters (Malappuram and Kondotti are the principal ones) of some Tangal, where they deposit the banners, I think at the tomb of the local saint, and present the offerings to the Tangal. At Malappuram, an enormous crowd of ten to twenty thousand assembles, and there is a great tamasha (popular excitement). You will sometimes see a man with his hair uncut, i.e., he does not cut it till he has fulfilled the vow.”

There is a tradition that, some centuries ago, one Sheik Mahomed Tangal died. One night, some Mappillas dreamt that his grave, which was near the reefs, was in danger of being washed away, and that they should remove the body to a safe place. They accordingly opened the grave, and found the body quite fresh, with no sign of decomposition. The remains were piously re-interred in another place, and a mosque, known as Sheikkinde Palli, built. The Mappillas of Calicut celebrate annually, on the 15th day of Rajub, the anniversary of the death of Sheik Mahomed Tangal, the date of which was made known through inspiration by an ancestor of the Mambram Tangal. The ancestor also presented the Mullah of the mosque with a head-dress, which is still worn by successive Mullahs on the occasion of the anniversary festival. “The festival goes by the name of Appani (trade in bread). A feature of the celebration is that every Moplah household prepares a supply of rice cakes, which are sent to the mosque to be distributed among the thousands of beggars who gather for the occasion. A very brisk trade is also carried on in these rice cakes, which are largely bought by the charitable for distribution among the poor. On the day of the anniversary, as well as on the day following, prayers are offered up to the souls of the departed. According to a legend, the pious Sheik, during his travels in foreign lands, arrived at Achin disguised as a fakir. One day, some servants of the local Sultan came to him, recognising in him a holy man, and begged his help in a serious difficulty. Their Sultan, they said, had a favourite parrot which used to be kept in a golden cage, and, the door of this cage having been inadvertently left open, the parrot had escaped. On hearing of the loss of his favourite bird, the Sultan had threatened his ministers and servants with dire punishment, if they failed to recover the bird. Sheik Mahomed Koya directed the servants to place the cage in the branches of a neighbouring tree, assuring them that the parrot would come and enter his cage. Saying this, the holy man departed. The servants did as he had bidden them, and had the gratification of seeing the bird fly into the cage, and of recovering and conveying it to their master. The Sultan asked the bird why it went away when it had a beautiful golden cage to live in, and a never failing supply of dainty food to subsist upon. The parrot replied that the beautiful cage and the dainty food were not to be compared with the delights of a free and unfettered life spent under the foliage of feathery bamboos, swayed by gentle breezes. The Sultan then asked the bird why it had come back, and the bird made answer that, while it was disporting itself with others of its species in a clump of bamboos, a stifling heat arose, which it feared would burn its wings, but, as it noticed that on one side of the clump the atmosphere was cool, it flew to that spot to take shelter on a tree. Seeing the cage amidst the branches, it entered, and was thus recaptured and brought back. The Sultan afterwards discovered that it was the fakir who had thus miraculously brought about the recovery of his bird, and further that the fakir was none other than the saintly Sheik Mahomed Koya Tangal. When the news of the Tangal’s death was subsequently received, the Sultan ordered that the anniversary of the day should be celebrated in his dominions, and the Moplahs of Calicut believe that the faithful in Achin join with them every year in doing honour to the memory of their departed worthy.”67

It is recorded, in the Annual Report of the Basel Medical Mission, Calicut, 1907, that “cholera and smallpox were raging terribly in the months of August and September. It is regrettable that the people, during such epidemics, do not resort to hospital medicines, but ascribe them to the devil’s scourge. Especially the ignorant and superstitious Moplahs believe that cholera is due to demoniac possession, and can only be cured by exorcism. An account of how this is done may be interesting. A Thangal (Moplah priest) is brought in procession, with much shouting and drumming, to the house to drive out the cholera devil. The Thangal enters the house, where three cholera patients are lying; two of these already in a collapsed condition. The wonder-working priest refuses to do anything with these advanced cases, as they seem to be hopeless. The other patient, who is in the early stage of the disease, is addressed as follows. ‘Who are you?’—‘I am the cholera devil’. ‘Where do you come from?’—‘From such and such a place’. ‘Will you clear out at once or not?’—‘No, I won’t’. ‘Why?’—‘Because I want something to quench my thirst’. ‘You want blood?’—‘Yes’. Then the Thangal asks his followers and relatives to give him what he asks. A young bull is brought into the room and killed on the spot, and the patient is made to drink the warm blood. Then the Thangal commands him to leave the place at once. The patient, weak and exhausted, gathers up all his strength, and runs out of the house, aided by a cane which is freely applied to his back. He runs as far as he can, and drops exhausted on the road. Then he is carried back, and, marvellous to say, he makes a good recovery.”

“The most important institution,” Mr. A. S. Vaidyanatha Aiyar writes,68 “among the Mappilas of Malabar is the office of the Mahadun (Makhdum) at Ponnani, which dates its origin about four centuries ago, the present Mahadun being the twenty-fifth of his line. [The line of the original Makhdum ended with the eighteenth, and the present Makhdum and his six immediate predecessors belong to a different line.] In the Mahadun there was a sect of religious head for the Mappilas from Kodangalur to Mangalore. His office was, and is still held in the greatest veneration. His decrees were believed to be infallible. (His decrees are accepted as final.) The Zamorins recognised the Mahadunship, as is seen from the presentation of the office dress at every succession. In the famous Jamath mosque they (the Mahaduns) have been giving instruction in Koran ever since they established themselves at Ponnani. Students come here from different parts of the country. After a certain standard of efficiency, the degree of Musaliar is conferred upon the deserving Mullas (their name in their undergraduate course). This ceremony consists simply in the sanction given by the Mahadun to read at the big lamp in the mosque, where he sometimes gives the instruction personally. The ceremony is known as vilakkath irikka (to sit by the lamp). When the degree of Musaliar is conferred, this sacred lamp is lit, and the Mahadun is present with a number of Musaliars. These Musaliars are distributed through the length and breadth of the land. They act as interpreters of the Koran, and are often appointed in charge of the mosques. When I visited the Jamath, there were about three hundred students. There is no regular staff of teachers. Students are told off into sections under the management of some senior students. The students are confined to the mosque for their lodgings, while most of them enjoy free boarding from some generous Mappilla or other.”

I am informed by Mr. Kunjain that “Mulla ordinarily means a man who follows the profession of teaching the Koran to children, reading it, and performing petty religious ceremonies for others, and lives on the scanty perquisites derived therefrom. The man in charge of a mosque, and who performs all petty offices therein, is also called a Mulla.69 This name is, however, peculiar to South Malabar. At Quilandi and around it the teacher of the Koran is called Muallimy, at Badagara Moiliar (Musaliar), at Kottayam Seedi, at Cannanore Kalfa, and north of it Mukri. The man in charge of a mosque is also called Mukir in North Malabar, while in South Malabar Mukir is applied to the man who digs graves, lights lamps, and supplies water to the mosque.”

The mosques of the Mappillas are quite unlike those of any other Muhammadans. “Here,” Mr. Fawcett writes,70 “one sees no minarets. The temple architecture of Malabar was noticed by Mr. Fergusson to be like that of Nepal: nothing like it exists between the two places. And the Mappilla mosque is much in the style of the Hindu temple, even to the adoption of the turret-like edifice which, among Hindus, is here peculiar to the temples of Siva. The general use nowadays of German mission-made tiles is bringing about, alas! a metamorphosis in the architecture of Hindu temples and Mappilla mosques, the picturesqueness disappearing altogether, and in a few years it may be difficult to find one of the old style. The mosque, though it may be little better than a hovel, is always as grand as the community can make it, and once built it can never be removed, for the site is sacred ever afterwards. Every Mappilla would shed his blood, rather than suffer any indignity to a mosque.” The mosques often consist of “several stories, having two or more roofs, one or more of the upper stories being usually built of wood, the sides sloping inwards at the bottom. The roof is pent and tiled. There is a gable end at one (the eastern) extremity, the timber on this being often elaborately carved.”

One section of Mappillas at Calicut is known as “Clap the hand” (Keikottakar) in contradistinction to another section, which may not clap hands (Keikottattakar). On the occasion of wedding and other ceremonies, the former enjoy the privilege of clapping their hands as an accompaniment to the processional music, while the latter are not permitted to do so.71 It is said that at one time the differences of opinion between the two sections ran so high that the question was referred for decision to the highest ecclesiastical authorities at Mecca.

The Mappillas observe the Ramazan, Bakrid, and Haj. “They only observe the ninth and tenth days of Muharam, and keep them as a fast; they do not make taboots.72 A common religious observance is the celebration of what is called a mavulad or maulad. A maulad is a tract or short treatise in Arabic celebrating the birth, life, works and sayings of the prophet, or some saint such as Shaik Mohiuddin, eleventh descendant of the prophet, expounder of the Koran, and worker of miracles, or the Mambram Tangal, father of Sayid Fasl. For the ceremony a Mulla is called in to read the book, parts of which are in verse, and the congregation is required to make responses, and join in the singing. The ceremony, which usually takes place in the evening, concludes with, or is preceded by a feast, to which the friends and relations are invited. Those who can afford it should perform a maulad in honour of Shaik Mohiuddin on the eleventh of every month, and one in honour of the prophet on the twelfth. A maulad should also be performed on the third day after death. It is also a common practice to celebrate a maulad before any important undertaking on which it is desired to invoke a blessing, or in fulfilment of some vows; hence the custom of maulads preceding outbreaks.”73

For a detailed account of the fanatical74 outbreaks in the Mappilla community, which have long disturbed the peace of Malabar from time to time, I must refer the reader to the District Manual and Gazetteer. From these sources, and from the class handbook (Mappillas) for the Indian Army,75 the following note relating to some of the more serious of the numerous outbreaks has been compiled.76

Towards the end of the seventeenth century, the Mappillas massacred the chief of Anjengo, and all the English gentlemen belonging to the settlement, when on a public visit to the Queen of Altinga.77 In 1841, seven or eight Mappillas killed two Hindus, and took post in a mosque, setting the police at defiance. They, and some of their co-religionists who had joined them, were shot down by a party of sepoys. In the same month, some two thousand Mappillas set at defiance a police guard posted over the spot where the above criminals had been buried, and forcibly carried off their bodies, to inter them with honours in a mosque.

Mappilla mosque.

An outbreak, which occurred in 1843, was celebrated in a stirring ballad.78 A series of Mappilla war-songs have been published by Mr. Fawcett.79 In October, 1843, a peon (orderly) was found with his head and hand all but cut off, and the perpetrators were supposed to have been Mappilla fanatics of the sect known as Hal Ilakkam (frenzy raising), concerning which the following account was given in an official report, 1843. “In the month of Metam last year, one Alathamkuliyil Moidin went out into the fields before daybreak to water the crops, and there he saw a certain person, who advised him to give up all his work, and devote his time to prayer at the mosque. Moidin objected to this, urging that he would have nothing to live upon. Whereupon, the above-mentioned person told him that a palm tree, which grew in his (Moidin’s) compound, would yield sufficient toddy, which he could convert into jaggery (crude sugar), and thus maintain himself. After saying this, the person disappeared. Moidin thought that the person he saw was God himself, and felt frantic (hal). He then went to Taramal Tangal, and performed dikkar and niskaram (cries and prayers). After two or three days, he complained to the Tangal that Kafirs (a term applied by Muhammadans to people of other religions) were making fun of him. The Tangal told him that the course adopted by him was the right one, and, saying ‘Let it be as I have said,’ gave him a spear to be borne as an emblem, and assured him that nobody would mock him in future. Subsequently several Mappillas, affecting hal ilakkam, played all sorts of pranks, and wandered about with canes in their hands, without going to their homes or attending to their work. After several days, some of them, who had no means of maintaining themselves unless they attended to their work, returned to their former course of life, while others, with canes and Ernad knives (war knives) in their hands, wandered about in companies of five, six, eight, or ten men, and, congregating in places not much frequented by Hindus, carried on their dikkar and niskaram. The Mappillas in general look upon this as a religious vow, and provide these people with food. I hear of the Mappillas talking among themselves that one or two of the ancestors of Taramal Tangal died fighting, that, the present man being advanced in age, it is time for him to follow the same course, and that the above-mentioned men affected with hal ilakkam, when their number swells to four hundred, will engage in a fight with Kafirs, and die in company with the Tangal. One of these men (who are known as Halar), by name Avarumayan, two months ago collected a number of his countrymen, and sacrificed a bull, and, for preparing meals for these men, placed a copper vessel with water on the hearth, and said that rice would appear of itself in the vessel. He waited for some time. There was no rice to be seen. Those who had assembled there ate beef alone, and dispersed. Some people made fun of Avarumayan for this. He felt ashamed, and went to Taramal Tangal, with whom he stayed two or three days. He then went to the mosque at Mambram, and, on attempting to fly through the air into the mosque on the southern side of the river at Tirurangadi, fell down through the opening of the door, and became lame of one leg, in which state he is reported to be still lying. While the Halar of Munniyur desam were performing niskaram one day at the tomb of Chemban Pokar Muppan, a rebel, they declared that in the course of a week a mosque would spring up at night, and that there would be complete darkness for two full days. Mappillas waited in anxious expectation of the phenomenon for seven or eight days and nights. There was, however, neither darkness nor mosque to be seen. Again, in the month of Karkigadam last, some of the influential Mappillas led their ignorant Hindu neighbours to believe that a ship would arrive with the necessary arms, provisions, and money for forty thousand men; and that, if that number could be secured meanwhile, they could conquer the country, and that the Hindus would then totally vanish. It appears that it was about this time that some Tiyyar (toddy-drawers) and others became converts. None of the predictions having been realised, Mappillas, as well as others, have begun to make fun of the Halar, who, having taken offence at this, are bent upon putting an end to themselves by engaging in a fight.”

Since the outbreak near Manjeri in 1849, when two companies of sepoys were routed after firing a few shots, European troops have always been engaged against the Mappillas. On the occasion of that outbreak, one of the Mappillas had his thigh broken in the engagement. He remained in all the agony of a wound unattended to for seven days, and was further tortured by being carried in a rough litter from the Manjeri to the Angadipuram temple. Yet, at the time of a further fight, he was hopping to the encounter on his sound leg, and only anxious to get a fair blow at the infidels before he died. It is recorded that, on one occasion, when a detachment of sepoys was thrown into disorder by a fierce rush of death-devoted Mappillas, the drummer of the company distinguished himself by bonneting an assailant with his drum, thereby putting the Mappilla’s head into a kind of straight jacket, and saving his own life.80 In 1852 Mr. Strange was appointed Special Commissioner to enquire into the causes of, and suggest remedies for, the Mappilla disturbances. In his report he stated, inter alia, that “a feature that has been manifestly common to the whole of these affairs is that they have been, one and all, marked by the most decided fanaticism, and this, there can be no doubt, has furnished the true incentive to them. The Mappillas of the interior were always lawless, even in the time of Tippu, were steeped in ignorance, and were, on these accounts, more than ordinarily susceptible to the teaching of ambitious and fanatical priests using the recognised precepts of the Koran as handles for the sanction to rise and slay Kafirs, who opposed the faithful, chiefly in the pursuit of agriculture. The Hindus, in the parts where outbreaks have been most frequent, stand in such fear of the Mappillas as mostly not to dare to press for their rights against them, and there is many a Mappilla tenant who does not pay his rent, and cannot, so imminent are the risks, be evicted.” Mr. Strange stated further that “the most perverted ideas on the doctrine of martyrdom, according to the Koran, universally prevail, and are fostered among the lower classes of the Mappillas. The late enquiries have shown that there is a notion prevalent among the lower orders that, according to the Mussalman religion, the fact of a janmi or landlord having in due course of law ejected from his lands a mortgagee or other substantial tenant, is a sufficient pretext to murder him, become sahid (saint), and so ensure the pleasures of the Muhammadan paradise. It is well known that the favourite text of the banished Arab priest or Tangal, in his Friday orations at the mosque in Tirurangadi, was ‘It is no sin, but a merit, to kill a janmi who evicts.’” Mr. Strange proposed the organisation of a special police force exclusively composed of Hindus, and that restrictions should be put on the erection of mosques. Neither of these proposals was approved by Government. But a policy of repression set in with the passing of Acts XXII and XXIV of 1854. The former authorised the local authorities to escheat the property of those guilty of fanatical rising, to fine the locality where outrages had occurred, and to deport suspicious persons out of the country. The latter rendered illegal the possession of the Mappilla war-knife. Mr. Conolly, the District Magistrate, proceeded, in December, 1854, on a tour, to collect the war-knives through the heart of the Mappilla country. In the following year, when he was sitting in his verandah, a body of fanatics, who had recently escaped from the Calicut jail, rushed in, and hacked him to pieces in his wife’s presence. He had quite recently received a letter from Lord Dalhousie, congratulating him on his appointment as a member of the Governor’s Council at Madras. His widow was granted the net proceeds of the Mappilla fines, amounting to more than thirty thousand rupees.

In an account of an outbreak in 1851, it is noted that one of the fanatics was a mere child. And it was noticed, in connection with a more recent outbreak, that there were “several boys who were barely fourteen years old. One was twelve; some were seventeen or eighteen. Some observers have said that the reason why boys turn fanatics is because they may thus avoid the discomfort, which the Ramzan entails. A dispensation from fasting is claimable when on the war-path. There are high hopes of feasts of cocoanuts and jaggery, beef and boiled rice. At the end of it all there is Paradise with its black-eyed girls.”81

In 1859, Act No. XX for the suppression of outrages in the district of Malabar was passed.

In 1884, Government appointed Mr. Logan, the Head Magistrate of Malabar, to enquire into the general question of the tenure of land and tenant right, and the question of sites for mosques and burial-grounds in the district. Mr. Logan expressed his opinion that the Mappilla outrages were designed “to counteract the overwhelming influence, when backed by the British courts, of the janmis in the exercise of the novel powers of ouster, and of rent-raising conferred upon them. A janmi who, through the courts, evicted, whether fraudulently or otherwise, a substantial tenant, was deemed to have merited death, and it was considered a religious virtue, not a fault, to have killed such a man, and to have afterwards died in arms, fighting against an infidel Government.” Mr. MacGregor, formerly Collector of Malabar, had, some years before, expressed himself as “perfectly satisfied that the Mappilla outrages are agrarian. Fanaticism is merely the instrument, through which the terrorism of the landed classes is aimed at.”

In 1884 an outbreak occurred near Malappuram, and it was decided by Government to disarm the taluks of Ernad, Calicut, and Walluvanad. Notwithstanding the excited state of the Mappillas at the time, the delicate operation was successfully carried out by the district officers, and 17,295 arms, including 7,503 fire-arms of various kinds, were collected. In the following year, the disarming of the Ponnani taluk was accomplished. Of these confiscated arms, the Madras Museum possesses a small collection, selected from a mass of them which were hoarded in the Collector’s office, and were about to be buried in the deep sea.

In 1896 a serious outbreak occurred at Manjeri, and two or three notoriously objectionable landlords were done away with. The fanatics then took up a position, and awaited the arrival of the British troops. They took no cover, and, when advancing to attack, were mostly shot down at a distance of 700 to 800 yards, every man wounded having his throat cut by his nearest friend. In the outbreak of 1894, a Mappilla youth was wounded, but not killed. The tidings was conveyed to his mother, who merely said, with the stern majesty of the Spartan matron of old, ‘If I were a man, I would not come back wounded.’82 “Those who die fighting for the faith are reverenced as martyrs and saints, who can work miracles from the Paradise to which they have attained. A Mappilla woman was once benighted in a strange place. An infidel passed by, and, noticing her sorry plight, tried to take advantage of it to destroy her virtue. She immediately invoked the aid of one of the martyrs of Malappuram. A deadly serpent rushed out of a neighbouring thicket, and flew at the villain, who had dared to sully the chastity of a chosen daughter. Once, during a rising, a Mappilla, who preferred to remain on the side of order and Government, stood afar off, and watched with sorrow the dreadful sight of his co-religionists being cut down by the European soldiery. Suddenly his emotions underwent a transformation, for there, through his blinding tears and the dust and smoke of the battle, he saw a wondrous vision. Lovely houris bent tenderly over fallen martyrs, bathed their wounds, and gave them to drink delicious sherbet and milk, and, with smiles that outshone the brightness of the sun, bore away the fallen bodies of the brave men to the realms beyond. The watcher dashed through the crowd, and cast in his lot with the happy men who were fighting such a noble fight. And, after he was slain, these things were revealed to his wife in a vision, and she was proud thereat. These, and similar stories, are believed as implicitly as the Koran is believed.”83

It is noted by Mr. Logan84 that the custom of the Nayars, in accordance with which they sacrificed their lives for the honour of the king, “was readily adopted by the Mappillas, who also at times—as at the great Mahamakham twelfth year feast at Tirunavayi—devoted themselves to death in the company of Nayars for the honour of the Valluvanad Raja. And probably the frantic fanatical rush of the Mappillas on British bayonets is the latest development of this ancient custom of the Nayars.”

The fanatical outbreaks of recent times have been exclusively limited to the Ernad and Walluvanad taluks. There are quartered at the present time at Malappuram in the Ernad taluk a special Assistant Collector, a company of British troops, and a special native police force. In 1905, Government threw open 220 scholarships, on the results of the second and third standard examinations, to Mappilla pupils of promise in the two taluks mentioned above, to enable them to prosecute their studies for the next higher standard in a recognised school connected with the Madras Educational Department. Twenty scholarships were further offered to Mappillas in the special class attached to the Government School of Commerce, Calicut, where instruction in commercial arithmetic, book-keeping, commercial practice, etc., is imparted in the Malayalam language. In 1904, a Mappilla Sanskrit school was founded at Puttur, some of the pupils at which belong to the families of hereditary physicians, who were formerly good Sanskrit scholars.

At a Loyalty meeting of Mappillas held at Ponnani in 1908 under the auspices of the Mannath-ul-Islam Sabha, the President spoke as follows. “When the Moplahs are ranged on the side of order, the peace of the country is assured. But the Moplah is viewed with suspicion by the Government. He has got a bad name as a disturber of the peace. He is liable to fits, and no one knows when he may run amock. From this public platform I can assure the Government as well as the public that the proper remedy has at last been applied, and the Moplah fits have ceased, never to return. What the remedy was, and who discovered it, must be briefly explained. Every Moplah outbreak was connected with the relapse of a convert. In the heat of a family quarrel, in a moment of despair, a Hindu thought to revenge himself upon his family by becoming a convert to Islam. In a few days, repentance followed, and he went back to his relatives. An ignorant Mullah made this a text for a sermon. A still more ignorant villager found in it an opportunity to obtain admission into the highest Paradise. An outbreak results. The apostate’s throat is cut. The Moplah is shot. Deportation and Punitive Police follow. The only rational way to put a final stop to this chronic malady was discovered by a Hindu gentleman. The hasty conversions must be stopped. Those who seek conversion must be given plenty of time to consider the irrevocable nature of the step they were going to take. The Mullahs must be properly instructed. Their interpretation of the Koran was wrong. There is absolutely nothing in our scriptures to justify murders of this kind, or opposition to the ruling power. The ignorant people had to be taught. There was no place in Paradise for murderers and cut-throats. Their place was lower down. Three things had to be done. Conversion had to be regulated; the Mullahs had to be instructed; the ignorance of the people had to be removed. Ponani is the religious head-quarters of the Moplahs of the West Coast, including Malabar, South Canara, and the Native States of Cochin and Travancore. The Jarathingal Thangal at Ponani is the High Priest of all the Moplahs; the Mahadoom Thangal of Ponani is the highest authority in all religious matters. It is he that sanctifies the Musaliars. The Mannath-ul-Islam Sabha at Ponani was started under the auspices of the Jarathingal Thangal and the Mahadoom Thangal. Two schools were opened for the education of new converts, one for boys and the other for girls. Strict enquiries were made as to the state of mind and antecedents of all who seek conversion. They are kept under observation long enough, and are admitted only on the distinct understanding that it is a deliberate voluntary act, and they have to make up their minds to remain. Some six thousand converts have passed through our schools since the Sabha was started. The Musaliars are never sanctified until they are thoroughly grounded in the correct principles of our religion, and an assurance is obtained from them that they will never preach rebellion. No Musaliar will break a promise given to the Thangal. The loyalty of the Musaliars and Mullahs is thus assured. Where there is no Musaliar to bless them, there is no Moplah to die as a martyr. The Mullahs are also taught to explain to all villagers that our scriptures condemn opposition to the ruling power, and that loyalty to the Sovereign is a religious duty. We are also trying to spread education among the ignorant villagers. In order further to enlist the sympathies of the people, extensive charities have been organised. Sixteen branches of the Sabha have been opened all over South Malabar and the States of Travancore and Cochin. A very large number of domestic quarrels—divorce cases, partition cases, etc.—have been settled by arbitration through these branch associations. It is an immense power for good.”

The Mappillas have been summed up, as regards their occupations, as being traders on the coast, and cultivators in the interior, in both of which callings they are very successful and prosperous. “In the realm of industry,” it has been said, “the Moplah occupies a position, which undoubtedly does him credit. Poverty is confined almost exclusively to certain wild, yet picturesque tracts in the east of Malabar, where the race constitutes the preponderating element of the population, and the field and farm furnish the only means of support to the people. And it is just in those areas that one may see at their best the grit, laboriousness, and enterprise of the Moplah. He reclaims dense forest patches, and turns them into cultivated plots under the most unfavourable conditions, and, in the course of a few years, by hard toil and perseverance, he transforms into profitable homesteads regions that were erstwhile virgin forest or scrubby jungle. Or he lays himself out to reclaim and plant up marshy lands lying alongside rivers and lagoons, and insures them from destruction by throwing up rough but serviceable dykes and dams. In these tracts he is also sometimes a timber merchant, and gets on famously by taking out permits to fell large trees, which he rafts down the rivers to the coast. The great bulk of the Moplahs in these wild regions belong purely to the labouring classes, and it is among these classes that the pinch of poverty is most keenly felt, particularly in the dull monsoon days, when all industry has to be suspended. In the towns and coast ports, the Moplahs are largely represented in most branches of industry and toil. A good many of them are merchants, and get on exceedingly well, being bolder and more speculative than the Hindus of the district. The bulk of petty traders and shop-keepers in Malabar are also Moplahs, and, in these callings, they may be found at great distances from home, in Rangoon, Ceylon, the Straits and elsewhere, and generally prospering. Almost everywhere in their own district they go near monopolising the grocery, hardware, haberdashery, and such other trades; and as petty bazar men they drive a profitable business on the good old principle of small profits and quick returns. No native hawker caters more readily to Mr. Thomas Atkins (the British soldier) than the Moplah, and, in the military stations in Malabar, ‘Poker’ (a Moplah name) waxes fat and grows rich by undertaking to supply Tommy with tea, coffee, lemonade, tobacco, oilman stores, and other little luxuries.”

“Some Mappillas,” Mr. A. Chatterton writes,85 “have taken to leather-working, and they are considered to be specialists in the making of ceruppus or leather shoes. In Malabar the trade in raw hides and skins is chiefly in the hands of Mappillas. Weekly fairs are held at several places, and all the available hides and skins are put up for sale, and are purchased by Muhammadans.” Some Mappillas bind books, and others are good smiths. “The small skull caps, which are the universal head-gear of Mappilla men and boys, are made in different parts of Malabar, but the best are the work of Mappilla women at Cannanore. They are made of fine canvas beautifully embroidered by hand, and fetch in the market between Rs. 2 and Rs. 3.”86

The Mappillas take an active share in the fish-curing operations along the west coast, and the Mukkuvans, who are the hereditary fishermen of Malabar, are inclined to be jealous of them. A veteran Mukkuvan, at the time of my inspection of the Badagara fish-curing yard in 1900, put the real grievance of his brethren in a nutshell. In old days, he stated, they used salt-earth for curing fishes. When the fish-curing yards were started, and Government salt was issued, the Mukkuvans thought that they were going to be heavily taxed. They did not understand exactly what was going to happen, and were suspicious. The result was that they would have nothing to do with the curing-yards. The use of salt-earth was stopped on the establishment of Government salt, and some of the fishermen were convicted for illegal use thereof. They thought that, if they held out, they would be allowed to use salt-earth as formerly. Meanwhile, the Mappillas, being more wide-awake than the Mukkuvans, took advantage of the opportunity (in 1884), and erected yards, whereof they are still in possession. A deputation of Mukkuvans waited on me. Their main grievance was that they are hereditary fishermen, and formerly the Mappillas were only the purchasers of fish. A few years ago, the Mappillas started as fishermen on their own account, with small boats and thattuvala (tapping nets), in using which the nets, with strips of cocoanut leaves tied on to the ropes, are spread, and the sides of the boats beaten with sticks and staves, to drive the fish into the net. The noise made extends to a great distance, and consequently the shoals go out to sea, too far for the fishermen to follow in pursuit. In a petition, which was submitted to me by the Mukkuvan fish-curers at Badagara, they asked to have the site of the yard changed, as they feared that their women would be ‘unchastised’ at the hands of the Mappillas.

“Small isolated attempts,” Major Holland-Pryor writes, “to recruit Mappillas were made by various regiments quartered in Malabar some years ago, but without success. This was probably owing to the fact that the trial was made on too small a scale, and that the system of mixed companies interfered with their clannish propensities. The district officers also predicted certain failure, on the ground that Mappillas would not serve away from their own country. Their predictions, however, have proved to be false, and men now come forward in fair numbers for enlistment.” In 1896, the experiment of recruiting Mappillas for the 25th Madras Infantry was started, and the responsible task of working up the raw material was entrusted to Colonel Burton, with whose permission I took measurements of his youthful warriors. As was inevitable in a community recruited by converts from various classes, the sepoys afforded an interesting study in varied colouration, stature and nasal configuration. One very dark-skinned and platyrhine individual, indeed, had a nasal index of 92. Later on, the sanction of the Secretary of State was obtained for the adoption of a scheme for converting the 17th and 25th regiments of the Madras Infantry into Mappilla corps, which were subsequently named the 77th and 78th Moplah Rifles. “These regiments,” Major Holland-Pryor continues, “at present draw their men principally from Ernad and Valuvanad. Labourers from these parts are much sought after by planters and agents from the Kolar gold-fields, on account of their hardiness and fine physique. Some, however, prefer to enlist. The men are generally smaller than the Coast Mappillas, and do not show much trace of Arab blood, but they are hardy and courageous, and, with their superior stamina, make excellent fighting material.” In 1905 the 78th Moplah Rifles were transferred to Dera Ismail Khan in the Punjab, and took part in the military manoeuvres before H.R.H. the Prince of Wales at Rawalpindi. It has been observed that “the Moplahs, in dark green and scarlet, the only regiment in India which wears the tarbush, are notable examples of the policy of taming the pugnacious races by making soldiers of them, which began with the enlistment of the Highlanders in the Black Watch, and continued to the disciplining of the Kachins in Burma. In the general overhauling of the Indian Army, the fighting value of the Moplahs has come into question, and the 78th Regiment is now at Dera Ismail Khan being measured against the crack regiments of the north.” In 1907, the colours of the 17th Madras Infantry, which was formed at Fort St. George in 1777, and had had its name changed to 77th Moplah Rifles, were, on the regiment being mustered out, deposited in St. Mark’s Church, Bangalore.

It has been said of the Mappillas87 that “their heads are true cocoanuts; their high foreheads and pointed crowns are specially noticeable for being kept shaven, and, when covered, provided with only a small gaily embroidered skull-cap.”

The dress of the Mappillas is thus described in the Gazetteer of Malabar. “The ordinary dress of the men is a mundu or cloth, generally white with a purple border, but sometimes orange or green, or plain white. It is tied on the left (Hindus tie it on the right), and kept in position by a nul or waist string, to which are attached one or more elassus (small cylinders) of gold, silver, or baser metal, containing texts from the Koran or magic yantrams. A small knife is usually worn at the waist. Persons of importance wear in addition a long flowing garment of fine cotton (a kind of burnoos), and over this again may be worn a short waistcoat like jacket, though this is uncommon in South Malabar, and (in the case of Tangals, etc.) a cloak of some rich coloured silk. The European shirt and short coat are also coming into fashion in the towns. A small cap of white or white and black is very commonly worn, and round this an ordinary turban, or some bright coloured scarf may be tied. Mappillas shave their heads clean. Beards are frequently worn, especially by old people and Tangals. Hajis, or men who have made their pilgrimage to Mecca, and other holy men, often dye the beard red. Women wear a mundu of some coloured cloth (dark blue is most usual), and a white loose bodice more or less embroidered, and a veil or scarf on the head. In the case of the wealthy, the mundu may be of silk of some light colour. Women of the higher classes are kept secluded, and hide their faces when they go abroad. The lower classes are not particular in this respect. Men wear no jewellery, except the elassus already mentioned, and in some cases rings on the fingers, but these should not be of pure gold. Women’s jewellery is of considerable variety, and is sometimes very costly. It takes the form of necklaces, ear-rings, zones, bracelets, and anklets. As among Tiyans and Mukkuvans, a great number of ear-rings are worn. The rim of the ear is bored into as many as ten or a dozen holes, in addition to the one in the lobe. Nose-rings are not worn.

“Incredibly large sums of money,” Mr. P. Kunjain writes,88 “are spent on female ornaments. For the neck there are five or six sorts, for the waist five or six sorts, and there are besides long rows of armlets, bracelets, and bangles, and anklets and ear ornaments, all made of gold. As many as ten or fourteen holes are bored in each ear, one being in the labia (lobe) and the remainder in the ala (helix). The former is artificially widened, and a long string of ornaments of beautiful manufacture suspended to it. As strict Sunnis of the Shafi school, the boring of the nose is prohibited.”

I have in my possession five charm cylinders, which were worn round the waist by a notorious Mappilla dacoit, who was shot by the police, and whom his co-religionists tried to turn into a saint. It is noted, in the Gazetteer of Malabar, that, though magic is condemned by the Koran, the Mappilla is very superstitious, and witchcraft is not by any means unknown. Many Tangals pretend to cure diseases by writing selections from the Koran on a plate with ink or on a coating of ashes, and then giving the ink or ashes mixed with water to the patient to swallow. They also dispense scrolls for elassus, and small flags inscribed with sacred verses, which are set up to avert pestilence or misfortune. The Mappilla jins and shaitans correspond to the Hindu demons, and are propitiated in much the same way. One of their methods of witchcraft is to make a wooden figure to represent the enemy, drive nails into all the vital parts, and throw it into sea, after curses in due form. A belief in love philtres and talismans is very common, and precautions against the evil eye are universal.

In 1903, a life-size nude female human figure, with feet everted and turned backwards, carved out of the wood of Alstonia scholaris, was washed ashore at Calicut. Long nails had been driven in all over the head, body and limbs, and a large square hole cut out above the navel. Inscriptions in Arabic characters were scrawled over it. By a coincidence, the corpse of a man was washed ashore close to the figure. Quite recently, another interesting example of sympathetic magic, in the shape of a wooden representation of a human being, was washed ashore at Calicut. The figure is eleven inches in height. The arms are bent on the chest, and the palms of the hands are placed together as in the act of saluting. A square cavity, closed by a wooden lid, has been cut out of the middle of the abdomen, and contains apparently tobacco, ganja (Indian hemp), and hair. An iron bar has been driven from the back of the head through the body, and terminates in the abdominal cavity. A sharp cutting instrument has been driven into the chest and back in twelve places.

“The Mappillas of North Malabar,” Mr. Lewis Moore writes,89 “follow the marumakkathayam system of inheritance, while the Mappillas of South Malabar, with some few exceptions, follow the ordinary Muhammadan law. Among those who profess to follow the marumakkathayam law, the practice frequently prevails of treating the self-acquisitions of a man as descendible to his wife and children under Muhammadan law. Among those who follow the ordinary Muhammadan law, it is not unusual for a father and sons to have community of property, and for the property to be managed by the father, and, after his death, by the eldest son. Mr. Logan90 alludes to the adoption of the marumakkathayam law of inheritance by the Nambudris of Payyanur in North Malabar, and then writes ‘And it is noteworthy that the Muhammadans settled there (Mappillas) have done the same thing.’ Mr. Logan here assumes that the Mappillas of North Malabar were Muhammadans in religion before they adopted the marumakkathayam law of inheritance. There can, however, be but little doubt that a considerable portion, at all events, of these so-called Mappillas were followers of marumakkathayam rules and customs long before they embraced the faith of Islam.” “In the case of the Mappillas,” Mr. Vaidyanatha writes, “it is more than probable that there were more numerous conversions from marumakkathayam families in the north than in the south. The number of makkathayam adherents has always been small in the north. According to marumakkathayam, the wife is not a member of the husband’s family, but usually resides in her family house. The makkathayam Mappillas, curiously enough, seldom take their wives home. In some parts, such as Calicut, a husband is only a visitor for the night. The Mappillas, like the Nayars, call themselves by the names of their houses (or parambas).” It is noted by Mr. P. Kunjain91 that the present generation of Moplahs following marumakkathayam is not inclined to favour the perpetuation of this flagrant transgression of the divine law, which enjoins makkathayam on true believers in unequivocal terms. With the view of defeating the operation of the law, the present generation settled their self-acquisition on their children during their lifetime. A proposal to alter the law to accord with the divine law will be hailed with supreme pleasure. This is the current of public opinion among Moplahs.

It is recorded in the Gazetteer of Malabar that “in North Malabar, Mappillas as a rule follow the marumakkathayam system of inheritance, though it is opposed to the precepts of the Koran; but a man’s self-acquisitions usually descend to his wife and family in accordance with the Muhammadan law of property. The combination of the two systems of law often leads to great complications. In the south, the makkatayam system is usually followed, but it is remarkable that succession to religious stanams, such as that of the Valiya Tangal of Ponnani, usually goes according to the marumakkathayam system. There seems to be a growing discontent with the marumakkathayam system; but, on the other hand, there is no doubt that the minute sub-division of property between a man’s heirs, which the Koran prescribes, tends to foster poverty, especially amongst petty cultivators, such as those of Ernad and Walavanad.”

It is unnecessary to linger over the naming, tonsure, circumcision, and ear-boring ceremonies, which the Mappilla infant has to go through. But the marriage and death customs are worthy of some notice.92 “Boys are married at the age of 18 or 20 as a rule in North Malabar, and girls at 14 or 15. In South Malabar, early marriages are more common, boys being married between 14 and 18, and girls between 8 and 12. In exceptional cases, girls have been known to be married at the age of 2½, but this only happens when the girl’s father is in extremis, since an orphan must remain unmarried till puberty. The first thing is the betrothal or settlement of the dowry, which is arranged by the parents, or in North Malabar by the Karnavans. Large dowries are expected, especially in North Malabar, where, in spite of polygamy, husbands are at a premium, and a father with many daughters needs to be a rich man. The only religious ceremony necessary is the nikka, which consists in the formal conclusion of the contract before two witnesses and the Kazi, who then registers it. The nikka may be performed either on the day of the nuptials or before it, sometimes months or years before. In the latter case, the fathers of the bride and bridegroom go to the bride’s family mosque and repeat the necessary formula, which consists in the recital of the Kalima, and a formal acceptance of the conditions of the match, thrice repeated. In the former case, the Kazi, as a rule, comes to the bride’s house where the ceremony is performed, or else the parties go to the Kazi’s house. In North Malabar, the former is the rule; but in Calicut the Kazi will only go to the houses of four specially privileged families. After the performance of the nikka, there is a feast in the bride’s house. Then the bridegroom and his attendants are shown to a room specially prepared, with a curtain over the door. The bridegroom is left there alone, and the bride is introduced into the room by her mother or sister. In North Malabar, she brings her dowry with her, wrapped in a cloth. She is left with the bridegroom for a few minutes, and then comes out, and the bridegroom takes his departure. In some cases, the bride and bridegroom are allowed to spend the whole night together. In some parts of South Malabar, it is the bride who is first conducted to the nuptial chamber, where she is made to lie down on a sofa, and the bridegroom is then introduced, and left with her for a few minutes. In North Malabar and Calicut, the bride lives in her own house with her mother and sisters, unless her husband is rich enough to build her a house of her own. In South Malabar, the wife is taken to the husband’s house as soon as she is old enough for cohabitation, and lives there. Polygamy is the rule, and it is estimated that in South Malabar 80 per cent. of the husbands have two wives or more, and 20 per cent. three or four. In North Malabar, it is not usual for a man to have more than two wives. The early age at which girls are married in South Malabar no doubt encourages polygamy. It also encourages divorce, which in South Malabar is common, while in the north it is comparatively rare, and looked upon with disfavour. All that is required is for the husband to say, in the presence of the wife’s relations, or before her Kazi, that he has ‘untied the tie, and does not want the wife any more,’ and to give back the stridhanam or dowry. Divorce by the wife is rare, and can be had only for definite reasons, such as that the husband is incapable of maintaining her, or is incurably diseased or impotent. Widows may remarry without limit, but the dearth of husbands makes it difficult for them to do so.

“When a man dies, his body is undressed, and arranged so that the legs point to Mecca. The two big toes are tied together, and the hands crossed on the chest, the right over the left; the arms are also tied with a cloth. Mullas are called in to read the Koran over the corpse, and this has to be continued until it is removed to the cemetery. When the relatives have arrived, the body is washed and laid on the floor on mats, over which a cloth has been spread. Cotton wool is placed in the ears, and between the lips, the fingers, and the toes, and the body is shrouded in white cloths. It is then placed on a bier which is brought from the mosque, and borne thither. At the mosque the bier is placed near the western wall; the mourners arrange themselves in lines, and offer prayers (niskaram) standing. The bier is then taken to the grave, which is dug north and south; the body is lowered, the winding sheets loosened, and the body turned so as to lie on its right side facing Mecca. A handful of earth is placed below the right cheek. The grave is then covered with laterite stones, over which each of the mourners throws a handful of earth, reciting the Kalima and passages from the Koran. Laterite stones are placed at the head and foot of the grave, and some mailanji (henna: Lawsonia alba) is planted at the side. A Mulla then seats himself at the head of the grave, and reads certain passages of the Koran, intended to instruct the dead man how to answer the questions about his faith, which it is supposed that the angels are then asking him. The funeral concludes with distribution of money and rice to the poor. For three days, a week, or forty days, according to the circumstances of the deceased, Mullas should read the Koran over the grave without ceasing day and night. The Koran must also be read at home for at least three days. On the third day, a visit is made to the tomb, after which a maulad is performed, the Mullas are paid, alms are distributed, and a feast is given to the relations, including the deceased’s relations by marriage, who should come to his house that day. A similar ceremony is performed on the fortieth day, which concludes the mourning; and by the rich on anniversaries. Widows should keep secluded in their own houses for three months and ten days, without seeing any of the male sex. After that period, they are at liberty to remarry.”

Concerning the Mappillas of the Laccadives, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes as follows.93 “The customs of the Mappillas of the Laccadive islands are peculiar. The people are not called Mappilas, but (1) Koya, (2) Malumi, (3) Urukkaran, (4) Takru, (5) Milikhan, and (6) Melac’cheri. No. 1 is the land and boat owning class, and is superior to the rest. Nos. 2 to 5 are pilots and sailors, and, where they are cultivators, cultivate under No. 1. No. 6 were the slaves of the first division; now they cultivate the Koyas’ lands, take the produce of those lands in boats to the mainland, and pay 20 per cent. of the sale-proceeds to the Koya owners. The islanders generally dress like ordinary Mappilas. The Melac’cheris, however, may use only a coarser kind of cloth, and they are not allowed intermarriage with the other classes. If any such marriage takes place, the offender is put out of caste, but the marriage is deemed a valid one. The current tradition is that these Laccadive Mappilas were originally the inhabitants of Malabar—Nambudiris, Nayars, Tiyyas, etc.—who went in search of Cheraman Perumal when the latter left for Mecca, and were wrecked on these islands. The story goes that these remained Hindus for a long time, that Obeidulla, the disciple of Caliph Abu Bakr, having received instructions from the prophet in a dream to go and convert the unbelievers on these islands, left for the place and landed on Ameni island, that he was ill-treated by the people, who were all Brahmans, but that, having worked some miracles, he converted them. He then visited the other islands, and all the islanders embraced the Moslem faith. His remains are said to be interred in the island of Androth. Among this section of the Mappilas, succession is generally—in fact almost entirely—in the female line. Girls are married when they are six or seven years old. No dowry is given. They are educated equally with the boys, and, on marriage, they are not taken away from school, but continue there until they finish the course. In the island of Minicoy, the largest of the islands, the women appear in public, and take part in public affairs. The women generally are much more educated than the ordinary Mappila males of the mainland. The Koyas are said to be descendants of Nambudiris, Melach’cheris of Tiyyans and Mukkuvans, and the rest of Nayars. Whatever the present occupation of Koyas on these islands, the tradition that Koyas were originally Brahmans also confirms the opinion that they belong to the priestly class.”

In a note on the Laccadives and Minicoy,94 Mr. C. W. E. Cotton writes that “while it would appear that the Maldives and Minicoy were long ago peopled by the same wave of Aryan immigration which overran Ceylon, tradition ascribes the first settlements in the northern group to an expedition shipwrecked on one of the Atolls so late as 825 A.D. This expedition is said to have set out from Kodungallur (Cranganore) in search of the last of the Perumal Viceroys of Malabar, a convert either to Buddhism or Islam, and included some Nambudris, commonly employed, as Duarte Barbosa tells us, on account of their persons being considered sacrosanct, as envoys and messengers in times of war, and perhaps also for dangerous embassies across the seas. Some support may be found for this tradition in the perpetuation of the name illam for some of the principal houses in Kalpeni, and in the existence of strongly marked caste divisions, especially remarkable among communities professing Mahomedanism, corresponding to the aristocrats, the mariners, and the dependants, of which such an expeditionary force would have been composed. The Tarwad islands, Ameni, Kalpeni, Androth, and Kavarathi, were probably peopled first, and their inhabitants can claim high-caste Hindu ancestry. There has been no doubt everywhere considerable voluntary immigration from the coast, and some infusion of pure Arab blood; but the strain of Negro introduced into the Maldives by Zanzibar slaves is nowhere traceable in Minicoy or the northern Archipelago.”

In a further note, Mr. Cotton writes as follows.95 “The inhabitants of Androth, Kalpeni, Kavaratti and Agatti, are Mappillas, almost undistinguishable, except in the matter of physical development, from those on the mainland. The admixture of Arab blood seems to be confined to a few of the principal families in the two ‘tarwad’ islands, Kalpeni and Androth. The islanders, though Muhammadans, perpetuate the old caste distinctions which they observed before their conversion to Islam. The highest caste is called Koya, in its origin merely a religious title. The Koyas represent the aristocracy of the original colonists, and in them vests the proprietorship of most of the cocoanut trees and the odams (ships), which constitute the chief outward and visible signs of wealth on the islands. They supply each Amin with a majority of his council of hereditary elders (Karanavans). The lowest and largest class is that of the Melacheris (lit. high climbers), also called Thandels in Kavaratti, the villeins in the quasi-feudal system of the islands, who do the tree-tapping, cocoanut plucking, and menial labour. They hold trees on kudiyan service, which involves the shipping of produce on their overlord’s boat or odam, the thatching of his house and boat-shed, and an obligation to sail on the odam to the mainland whenever called upon. Intermediately come the Malumis (pilots), also called Urakars, who represent the skilled navigating class, to which many of the Karnavans in Kavaratti belong. Intermarriage between them and the less prosperous Koyis is now permitted. Monogamy is almost the universal rule, but divorces can be so easily obtained that the marriage tie can scarcely be regarded as more binding than the sambandham among the Hindus on the coast. The women go about freely with their heads uncovered. They continue to live after marriage in their family or tarwad houses, where they are visited by their husbands, and the system of inheritance in vogue is marumakkathayam as regards family property, and makkatayam as regards self-acquisitions. These are distinguished on the islands under the terms Velliyaricha (Friday) and Tingalaricha (Monday) property. The family house is invariably called pura in contradistinction to Vidu—the wife’s house. Intermarriage between the inhabitants of different islands is not uncommon. The islanders are very superstitious, and believe in ghosts and hobgoblins, about the visible manifestations of which many stories are current; and there is an old mamul (established) rule on all the islands forbidding any one to go out after nightfall. Phantom steamers and sailing ships are sometimes seen in the lagoons or rowed out to on the open sea; and in the prayers by the graves of his ancestors, which each sailor makes before setting out on a voyage, we find something akin to the Roman worship of the Manes. The Moidin mosque at Kalpeni, and the big West Pandaram at Androth are believed to be haunted. There are Jarams (shrines) in Cheriyam and Cheriyakara, to which pilgrimages are made and where vows are taken, and it is usual to chant the fateah96 on sighting the Jamath mosque in Androth, beneath the shadow of which is the tomb of Mumba Mulyaka, the Arab apostle to the Laccadives.”

In his inspection report of the Laccadives, 1902, Mr. G. H. B. Jackson notes that “the caste barrier, on the island of Androth, between the Koya and the Malumi class and the Melacheris is as rigid as ever. It divides capital from labour, and has given the upper classes much of the appearance of an effete aristocracy.” In a more recent inspection report (1905), Mr. C. W. E. Cotton writes as follows. “Muhammadans, owing to their inordinate love of dress, are apt to give an exaggerated impression of wealth, but I should think that, despite the laziness of all but the Melacheris, the majority of the inhabitants (of Androth) are well-to-do, and, in this respect, compare very favourably with those of the other islands. The Qazi and several other Karnavars, who have a smattering of the Koran, go to the mainland, and, in centres of superstition, earn considerable sums by their profession of extreme learning and piety. The long satin coats (a canary yellow is the fashionable tint) procured in Bombay or Mangalore are evidence of the financial success of their pilgrimages. It is perhaps fortunate that the Koyas have discovered this additional source of income, for, though they continue to own nearly all the cargo-carrying odams (boats), their position as jenmis (landlords) has been seriously jeopardised owing to the repudiation of their obligations as Kudians by many of the enterprising Melacheri community. The Melacheris are now alive to the fact that, as their tenure is not evidenced by documents and rests upon oral assertions, they have a very reasonable chance of freeing themselves of their overlords altogether. The Mukhyastars are quite a representative lot. Sheikindevittil Muthu Koya is a fine specimen of the sea-faring Moplah, and the Qazi, twenty-fourth in descent from Mumby Moolyaka, the Arab who converted the islanders to Islam, struck me as a man of very considerable attainments. In his report on the dispensary at Androth (1905), Mr. K. Ibrahim Khan, hospital assistant, states that “the quacks are said to be clever enough to treat cases both by their drugs and by their charms. They actually prevent other poor classes seeking medical and surgical treatment in the dispensary, and mislead them by their cunning words. Most of the quacks come to the dispensary, and take medicines such as santonine powders, quinine pills, purgatives, etc. They make use of these for their own cases, and thus earn their livelihood. The quacks are among the Koya class. The Koyas are jenmis, and the Malims and Melacheris are their tenants. The latter, being low classes, always believe them, and depend upon their landlords, who are also their physicians, to treat them when they fall sick. The islanders, as a rule, have no faith in English medical treatment. The rich folks who can afford it go to Malabar for native treatment; only the poorer classes, who have neither means to pay the quacks here nor to go to Malabar, attend the dispensary with half inclination.”

Marakallu.—Marakallu or Marakadu, meaning fishermen, has been recorded as a sub-division of Pallis engaged as fishermen in the Telugu country. The equivalent of Mukku Marakkaleru is a title or synonym of Moger and Marakkan of Mukkuvan. Marakkayar is a title of Labbai boatmen.

1 Manual of the Nellore district.

2 Manual of the Kurnool district, 1886.

3 Madras Census Report, 1891.

4 Madras Mail, 1902.

5 While Wearing Sandals, or Tales of a Telugu Pariah Tribe.

6 Madras Christ. Coll. Mag., XXIII (New Series V), 1906.

7 Manual of the North Arcot district.

8 A. Chatterton, Monograph of tanning and working in Leather, Madras, 1904.

9 Manual of the Kurnool district.

10 Manual of the Bellary district.

11 Madras Museum Bull. V. 3, 1907.

12 Madras Census Report, 1891.

13 Dynasties of the Kanarese Districts of the Bombay Presidency, 1882.

14 Manual of the Cuddapah district.

15 Manual of the Bellary district.

16 Manual of the Bellary district.

17 Manual of the Bellary district.

18 Gazetteer of the Anantapur district.

19 Mysore Census Report, 1901.

20 Manual of the North Arcot district.

21 Notes from a Diary, 1881–1886.

22 Manual of the Kurnool district.

23 Madras Census Report, 1891.

24 Madras Diocesan Record, 1905.

25 Gazetteer of the Godavari district.

26 Madras Museum Bull. V. 3, 1907.

27 East and West, 6th May 1907.

28 Gazetteer of the Anantapur district.

29 Madras and Tinnevelly Dioces. Mag., June, 1908.

30 Gochi, a clout, a truss or flap; a waist-cloth. C. P. Brown, Telugu Dictionary.

31 Gazetteer of the Godavari district.

32 Ind. Ant., III, 1874; VI, 1877.

33 Native Life in Travancore, 1883.

34 Journey from Madras through the countries of Mysore, Canara, and Malabar, 1807.

35 Calcutta Review, 1902.

36 Manual of the South Canara district.

37 Manual of the North Arcot district.

38 Gazetteer of the South Arcot district.

39 Darakhast: application for land for purposes of cultivation; or bid at an auction.

40 Gazetteer of the South Arcot district.

41 Madras Mail, 1904.

42 Madras Mail, 1908.

43 Gazetteer of the South Arcot district.

44 C. Hayavadana Rao, MS.

45 Manual of the North Arcot district.

46 Manual of the South Arcot district.

47 Madras Census Report, 1891.

48 Madras Diocesan Magazine, 1906.

49 Manual of the North Arcot district.

50 Madras Census Report, 1891.

51 Travancore Census Report, 1901.

52 Lecture delivered at Trivandrum.

53 See A. T. Mackenzie. History of the Periyar Project. Madras, 1899.

54 Rev. J. Cain. Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

55 Malabar Law and Custom. 3rd ed., 1905.

56 Elements of South Indian PalÆography.

57 Madras Review, 1896.

58 Man, 1903.

59 Manual of Malabar.

60 Manual of the Madura district.

61 Hobson-Jobson.

62 Ind. Ant., XXXI, 1902.

63 Cf. Javan, Genesis X, 2; Isaiah, LXVI, 19; Ezekiel, XXVII, 13, 19.

64 Malabar Quart. Review, 1903.

65 Vide Correspondence on Moplah Outrages, 1849–53.

66 Madras Census Report, 1891.

67 Madras Mail, 1908.

68 Malabar Quart. Review, 1906.

69 When not officially attached to a mosque, the Mulla is said to be called Nattu (country) Mulla.

70 Ind. Ant., XXX, 1901.

71 P. V. Ramunni, loc. cit.

72 The taboot is “a kind of shrine, or model of a Mahomedan mausoleum, of flimsy material, intended to represent the tomb of Husain at Kerbela, which is carried in procession during the Mohurram.” Yule and Burnell, Hobson-Jobson.

73 Gazetteer of the Malabar district.

74 Fanatical (fanum, a temple). Possessed by a deity or devil, frantic, mad, furious. Murray. New English Dictionary.

75 Major Holland-Pryor, 1904.

76 See also Government Orders, Judicial Department, Nos. 1267, 24th May, 1894; 2186, 8th September, 1894; 1567, 30th September, 1896; and 819, 25th May, 1898.

77 Forbes’ Oriental Memoirs.

78 Manual of Malabar, 1887, p. 102.

79 Ind. Ant., XXX, 1901.

80 General Burton. An Indian Olio.

81 Calcutta Review, 1897.

82 Calcutta Review, 1897.

83 Ibid.

84 Manual of Malabar.

85 Monograph on Tanning and Working in Leather, 1904.

86 Gazetteer of Malabar.

87 General Burton. Op. cit.

88 Loc. cit.

89 Op. cit.

90 Manual of Malabar.

91 Loc. cit.

92 Gazetteer of the Malabar district.

93 Madras Census Report, 1891.

94 Malabar Quarterly Review, Vol. 3, 1906.

95 Gazetteer of the Malabar district.

96 The recital of the first chapter of the Koran.

Printed by The Superintendent, Government Press, Madras.